The Third Man
by oracle-of-bast
Summary: Elizabeth Sinclair has always enjoyed staying in the shadows, even while creating profiles of the world's most dangerous criminals. When old friend Nate Ford forces her back into her old career, she is opened to a new realm of possibilities. Now working with a band of thieves to steal from corrupt and give to the innocent, Liza is living a new whirlwind story. Season 1 rewrite
1. The Nigerian Job: Meeting the Team

_Hotel Bar_

 _Los Angeles_

 _Nathan Ford sat alone at the end of the hotel bar, hunched, leaning against the marble counter. The unkempt, ex-insurance investigator waited silently in the empty room. The bartender approached while Nate hoped he wasn't going to cut him off. Instead, the employee set down a glass tumbler of Coke._ _"I checked. Airport shuttle's in fifteen minutes," he said before quickly disappearing again. Just as the bartender turned his back, Nate retrieved out a small glass bottle of amber whiskey from his jacket, pouring it into his drink._

 _He had barely taken a sip when a voice spoke behind him._ _A short, heavy-set man in his fifties nervously moved toward Nate. "I'm sorry Mr. Ford, sorry, I know who you are." He pushed wire glasses back to the bridge of his nose. "I've, uh, excuse me." Mr. Dubenich hung his heavy coat on the chair adjacent to the Nate's. He pulled the chair out, sitting down, holding his bag in his lap. "I've read all about you. I know for example that-that when you found that stolen Monet painting in Florence you probably saved your Insurance Company what 20-25 million dollars. Then there was that identity theft thing, and you saved your insurance company -I don't even know how many millions of dollars." He continued speaking even when Nate returned his gaze to the wall and took another drink. He lowered his voice before saying: "but I just know that when you needed them…" he shook his head. "What happened to your family is the kind of thing-"_

 _Nate slammed down his glass, his head swiveling to glare at the uninvited guest. " You know that part of the conversation where I punch you in the neck nine or ten times? We're coming up on that pretty quick," he said, his tone daring the other man to say anything else._

 _"I just want to offer you a job."_ _"What do you got?"_ _Dubenich leaned in closer. "Do you know anything about airplane design?"_

 _"I could give it a shot, you know, you give me a pencil and one of those little rulers," he replied facetiously._

 _"Somebody stole my airplane designs,"_ _A look of realization flashed across Nate's face as he finally turned to acknowledge Dubenich. "Oh, I see, and you'd like me to find them, right?"_

 _"No. I know where they are," he replied while Nate raised his glass to his lips. "I want you to steal them back."_

 _If Nate had been expecting anything, it definitely had not been that._

 _-O-_

Pierson Aviation

The Next Evening…

Nate kept a quick stride alongside the willowy blonde woman whom he had identified as Parker. He recalled her infamously escaping with a Pissarro his former company had insured in Monaco a few years previous. It had been Sterling's case. The incident had not bothered him one bit when she escaped, forcing Sterling to write a seven-figure check. He still remembered that moment with a particular fondness.

They both walked in an unnerving silence until they stood directly across the street from Pierson Aviation. Two men stopped beside them, one dark-skinned and the other light. Both wore black clothing. Eliot Spencer stood with his arms crossed, an intimidating gaze roving over his new colleagues. Alec Hardison shifted uncomfortably while Parker never showed any kind emotion- negative or otherwise. The three soon started across the street as Nate turned, walking the opposite direction.

He entered the new building construction, stepping over various tarps and equipment. He pulled open the doorway to the back stairwell. By the time he reached the fourth floor, he wished the elevators had been working. When he arrived on the tenth floor, he went toward the middle office. The door was open. He kicked away the plastic under his feet before picking up a table, setting it up before placing his laptop on the surface. Nate went to the window, looking out to the Pierson Aviation building.

-O-

 _Hotel Bar_

 _18 hours earlier..._

 _Seated at one of the nearby tables, Nate briefly looked at the CEO's photograph before dropping it to the table. "You're sure Pierson stole your designs?"_

 _Dubenich motioned wildly with his hands. "Look, my engineer goes missing, he disappears with all my files and then one week later Pierson announces an identical project. Come on." he said dubiously._

 _Nate's finger moved beneath his lip, his forehead wrinkling in light contemplation before he replied: "I don't know." he shook his head, scratching his nose. " Stealing them back, it seems like a stupid risk, there are other ways…"_

 _Dubenich leaned more heavily against the table. "Listen. Listen to me. At the end of this month, I have a shareholder's meeting Mr. Ford. I've spent, already, five years, 100 million dollars on RD. If I go to that meeting with nothing to show for it? Then I am dead." he said, lightly striking the table with the bottom of his closed fist. Nate leaned back in his chair, tapping his finger against the table, giving a skeptical expression. "Look." Dubenich pushed a blue file folder across the table. He pointed to the papers inside before Nate took them. "look at the people I've already hired. Do you recognize any of these names?"_

 _Nate flipped through the pages in quick succession. "Uh, yeah, I've chased all of them at one time or anoth-" he stopped suddenly, his brow furrowing disbelievingly. "Parker? You have Parker?"_

 _"Is there somebody better?" he asked anxiously, looking as though he were willing to promise anything (or anyone) to convince Nate._

 _"No," He glanced up to meet Dubenich's eyes. "but Parker is insane."_

 _"Which is why I need you," Dubenich answered._

 _Nate chuckled, shaking his head. "No," he said. He closed the file, throwing it back to the center of the table. "I'm not a thief,"_

 _"Thieves, I got." he held up his finger. "What I need is one honest man.. To watch them,"_

 _-O-_

Building Across from Pierson Aviation

Eighteen and a half hours later…

Nate set his projector atop the table, hastily connecting it to the laptop. Schematics of the Aviation building suddenly rose to glowing life on the wall behind him. He turned, checking to ensure it to be working correctly. A confident smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

 _-O-_

 _Hotel Bar_

 _"Are you in?" Dubenich asked._

 _Nate leaned forward, saying: "It's not going to work." he scratched his chin. "These people you hired. They all have the same rep. They work alone. They always work alone. There's no exceptions." he shook his head. "There's no way they're going to work for you,"_

 _"No, they will. For $300,000 each, they will." he argued. "and for you, for running it, it's double that. And it's off the books, completely off the books. Look at me, I'm desperate here. And that's just the salary, there is a bonus. Pierson is insured by I.Y.S., your old bosses." Nate looked up at that. "It's a 50 million dollar intellectual property rights policy. Mr. Ford, how badly do you want to screw the insurance company that let your son die?"_

-O-

Nate pulled on a headset. "Ok. Clear comms,"

Across the street on top of the Pierson Aviation building, Hardison picked up the headset in extreme distaste. "No, no, no, no. No, hell, no. This equipment is total VH1, brah, it's best of the 80's." Hardison shook his head. "I got something nicer."

"Alright. No surprises now."

"I've been doing this since high school, bro, I'm Captain Discipline." Hardison retorted smugly. The hacker reminisced about a memorable New York incident; he, unfortunately, learned that the 'Force' didn't work as well as it did in the films. He pulled a box from his jacket pocket. "This is a bone-conduction earpiece mic, works off the vibrations in your jaw." He held the small device between his fingers, enabling the hitter to get a better view. He tossed it to Eliot, who held it up to his ear. "You can hear everything," Hardison whispered.

"You're not as useless as you look," Eliot replied.

Hardison scoffed derisively, turning around. "I don't even know what you do,"

A breeze tousled Eliot's hair as the man gave a half-smile. Memories of Belgrade, a baseball card, and an excellent cup of coffee flashed through his mind. He pulled a black knit hat over his head while Hardison adjusted the earpieces in the box. Eliot didn't flinch when Parker suddenly appeared between the two men, hanging upside down from scaffolding. Her blonde ponytail dangled, moving in the wind.

"Can I have one?" she asked, perfectly comfortable in her position.

Hardison lifted the box, and she took an earpiece. "You can have the whole box," Electrified by the peculiar thief, he watched as she disappeared again.

"What're you gonna do when she finds out you live with your mom?" Eliot asked, raising his brow in amusement.

Hardison simply grinned. "Age of the geek, baby," he said, pulling on his own hat. "We run the world,"

"Yeah," Eliot replied in a sarcastic drawl. "You keep tellin' yourself that." he walked past the younger man.

The thief sat atop the scaffolding, higher above any other building in the vicinity, smiling without care. She pushed the earpiece into her ear. She remembered a man telling her years ago to become a better thief. She also remembered the explosion that closely followed afterward. Her smile grew. She still had that stuffed bunny rabbit tucked away.

Parker readjusted her gear, lovingly caressing it. Tucking the last strand of blonde hair into the leather cap, she said: "Last time I used this rig, Paris, 2003."

Eliot examined the earpiece more closely. "Is this thing safe?"

In the next moment, Nate spoke up, realizing something. "You talking about the Caravaggio? You stole that?" His comment to Parker was ignored as Hardison explained to Eliot nonchalantly.

"Yeah, it's completely safe, it's just, you know, you might experience nausea, weakness in your right side, stroke, strokiness,"

Eliot's glare beat into the back of the young man's head, shoving in the earpiece. "You're precisely why I work alone," he groused.

Nate paced to the window, binoculars in hand. "Guys listen up, we're going to go on my count, not a second sooner. Parker, no freelancing," he warned.

"Hey, relax," Eliot said, his hand moving to the earpiece. "We know what we're doing,"

Nate lifted the binoculars to his eyes, spying three figures on the rooftop across the street. "And on the count of five!"

"Oh, he doesn't wanna be our pal," Hardison snarked.

"We're on the count. Five, four.." Nate said. Parker dashed across the rooftop. "Three,"

Eliot glanced over his shoulder at the sound of light footsteps before he quickened his stride. "She's gone,"

Nate's arms dropped, his head rolling to the side in irritation. "Sonuva-" Parker dove off the building's edge, screaming excitedly as she dropped. Nate lifted the binoculars back to his eyes, watching as the woman fell hundreds of feet.

Eliot leaned over the roof's edge, saying: "That's twenty pounds of crazy in a five-pound bag,"

Parker hung upside, looking inside the window to the alarm system. "Vibration detectors are on,"

"No cutting, Parker," he instructed. "Use the binary,"

As Parker layered the acidic paste on the double-paned glass, Hardison and Eliot ran across the roof, bags in hand. They opened a roof access hatch, hastily sliding down the ladder into the building. Parker attached a vacuum suction cup to the window, pulling the circular cut away from the pane before carelessly dropping it to the ground. Careful not to touch the vibration sensitive glass, she reached through the hole, dropping a remote onto the table. Climbing through the window, she pressed a button on the remote, and her harness released. With a graceful flip off the desk, she whipped around just in time to catch a pencil from hitting the ground. She crossed the room, opening the door, moving down the hall until she reached a room labeled: 'Danger: High Voltage'. She tested the knob, smiling when she found it unlocked.

Hardison and Eliot waited atop the elevator while Parker pulled a small laptop from her gear bag. She pulled her hat off before crossing two red wires. Impatient, Eliot began: "You know Parker anytime you wanna-"

The elevator jerked to life, starting its descent. "Woah!" Hardison fell back, hitting his shoulder against the elevator shaft wall.

"Boys are on their way," Parker said calmly.

"What are you getting with security? You see security?" Nate asked.

Parker looked at her monitors. "They don't see a thing," she answered, a superior smile growing. The guards sat around the security desk, watching monitors filled with empty rooms and unmoving elevators.

Parker's swift, gloved fingers moved across the keyboard as the boys neared their planned destination. "Door's open," she murmured.

"Alright, guys," Nate said. "Here we go,"

Hardison walked in front of Eliot down the junk-filled hall; several different carts in several shades and sizes littered the space alongside the walls. Eliot gave a small device to Hardison. "Here,"

Hardison stopped in front of a door labeled 'Research and Development'. "Got it." Hardison inserted the card into the door, his gaze nervously darting from side to side.

"Ok, you got any chatter on their frequencies?" Nate asked.

"No," Parker answered, stopping her typing but didn't look away from the screen. "Why?"

Stolen records projected onto the wall. Nate walked past the table. "There's eight listed on the duty roster. And there's only four at the guard post,"

Parker readjusted the screens. "I can't even tell how many guys are in the room. How can you tell who's who?"

Nate scratched near his eye. "Haircuts, Parker. Count the haircuts,"

Parker looked up, surprised. "I would have missed that," she said to herself.

"What?" Nate asked.

"Nothing!" she quickly replied.

Eliot lifted his hand to his ear, remaining aware of his surroundings while the hacker worked. "Problem?" he asked.

Nate's voice turned higher, uncertainty barely noticeable. "Uh, maybe. Run the cameras,"

Hardison's eyes were locked onto the small device he held in his palm. He watched the numbers change on the screen. "A 10-digit password. I salute you, sir,"

Parker searched through rolls of video feed on her monitors, scrolling until she found the missing guards. "They're doing their walk-through an hour early… why the f-"

Nate pulled back, looking more closely at the projection. "Because it's the playoffs," he said. Parker tightened the frame on her monitor, zooming in on the previously unnoticed basketball game. "Yeah, game five of the playoffs. And they're doing their rounds an hour early so they can watch the playoffs." Parker hit several keys on her small keyboard. "Alright, where are they?"

"They're at the stairwell," Parker answered.

Nate turned, quickly appraising the blueprints on the wall. "Ok.." Parker watched as the guards doing their rounds found an open door and immediately reached for their walkie-talkies and weapons. "Ok, guys. Here's what we gotta do. We gotta squelch 'em,"

Parker tapped another command into the laptop, and a high pitched ringing went across the guards' frequencies.

"Eliot," Nate began. "What I want you to do is clear the zone, and use Hardison as bait,"

Eliot unzipped his jacket, pulling it off before disappearing around the corner. Hardison turned around, offense and concern fighting for control of his expression. "Bait?" he repeated. "Hold on. Wait a minute. I know you ain't talkin' about me. I ain't nobody's bait." he tapped the side of the device. "C'mon, baby. Work for me, baby… c'mon, baby." Hardison's heart thumped in his chest, the echoes of the guards' voice ringing in the cavernous hallways.

"Hardison, they're almost there," Parker said.

"C'mon, baby. Come on," he said to the device, eyes darting to the side as the guards drew nearer. "Just come on, man." He shook his head, dropping the device. The numbers still moved across the screen as it swung back and forth, loosely hanging from the scanner attached to the water. He grabbed his bag from the floor, getting ready to run. "Forget it," he mumbled anxiously. He turned to exit down the hall, suddenly freezing when the guards stood before him with weapons aimed directly at him.

"Hold it right there," one of them said.

The bag still in hand, Hardison lifted his arms above his head. Eliot reappeared behind the guards, his glasses missing. Hardison dropped his bag as Eliot began his assault. A blur of guards hitting walls and collapsing to the ground filled Hardison's senses as Eliot subdued them. The sounds of punches and the men's pained groans echoed. Hardison's bag hit the ground while Eliot was left the last man standing, holding one of the guard's guns. Hardison looked at Eliot warily. Eliot held up the gun, pressing the release, the magazine clip falling to the floor.

Eliot tossed the useless gun over his shoulder, inordinately pleased with himself. He smiled. "That's what I do," Hardison nodded, unsure of what to say but also impressed. He turned his head when the lock disengaged. He and Eliot stood in the doorway. Hardison laughed when faced with fields upon fields of servers. The hacker entered, connecting to the main terminal while Eliot began dragging the guards into the room by their ankles.

"Guys, guys you gotta talk to me, okay? 'Cause I don't know what's going on." Nate said in a brusque tone.

Eliot pulled the last man in as Hardison replied: "It's all good, I'm stripping the drives right now." he plugged his flash drive into the main terminal before beginning to comb through several screens of data. Hardison laughed. "Come on, baby," he said, retrieving all of the stolen files before deleting them from Pierson's database. "Mm-hmm. Got all the designs. Got all the back-ups. We're leaving the cupboards bare,"

Nate started another track of pacing. "Drop the spike,"

Several colors flashed across the screen before the Blue Screen of Death appeared. Hardison stood from his chair, irritatingly pleased with himself. "Did you give 'em a virus?" Eliot asked.

"Dude," he glanced at Eliot. "I gave them more than one virus," he said as they exited into the hallway, the lights in the project room gradually switching off. As the two men started down the corridor, Parker spoke:

"Problem. Those guards you ganked?" She shifted her position, typing on her device. "They reset all the alarms on the roof and all the floors above us. We can't go up,"

Eliot shook his head, returning to his quick stride. "Every man for himself, then,"

"Go ahead," Hardison retorted. "I'm the one with the merchandise,"

Parker narrowed her eyes, becoming frustrated. "Yeah? Well, I'm the one with an exit,"

Nate stopped in front of the window, saying: "And I'm the one with the plan. " Eliot, Hardison, and Parker didn't move while Nate gave his commands. Hardison suddenly downcasts his eyes, his grip on his bag flexing. "Now, I know you children don't play well with others, but I need you to hold it together for exactly seven more minutes. Now get to the elevator, and head down. We're going to the burn scam,"

Eliot and Hardison changed directions, together heading for the elevator doors, while a smile tugged at the edges of Parker's lips. When the elevator doors opened, Hardison and Eliot dove into the cart, throwing down their bags, grabbing extra clothes, taking off their hats. "Going to plan 'B'?" Hardison asked.

Nate pulled a paper from the bottom of the stack on the table. "Technically, that would be plan 'G'," he replied.

The elevator doors reopened on Parker's floor just as the two men finished adjusting their suits and ties. Without care, Parker pulled off her shirt. The men in disbelief shared a cautionary glance before hastily looking away. "How many plans do we have?" Hardison asked as the doors closed. Parker began pulling on her own business attire. "Is there like a plan 'M'?"

Nate began to gather his things. "Yeah, Hardison dies in plan 'M',"

Eliot gave a small grin, fixing his tie and pulling on his jacket. "I like plan 'M'," he didn't turn his head to see the offended expression Hardison then wore.

As the elevator continued to descend, Eliot retrieved a blue leg brace from the bag, attaching it the thief's leg while Hardison applied burn scar makeup to Parker's face. "Stay still, stay still. Don't move," Hardison said.

The elevator dinged as it reached the bottom floor. The doors opened as one of the guards approached, his hand on his weapon. Parker leaned heavily on a cane as she exited with Eliot and Hardison close behind. The guard let his jacket fall, covering his gun, while he continued to stare at Parker. Hardison held onto Parker's arm as he assisted her through the security divider.

"Nice!" Eliot griped, covering his drawl. "Why don't you stare a little more?"

The guard backed away. "Sorry," he said, embarrassed.

"You gotta be kidding me!" Eliot protested.

Parker held up her free hand. "No, Tom. It's ok," she said to Eliot, feigned emotion seeping into her voice.

Hardison glared at the guard who unknowingly began to trail after the trio. "No, it's not,"

The guard mumbled another pitiful apology. Parker's voice became tearful as she continued to hobble away. "I understand,"

Eliot watched as Nate pulled a dark sedan to the curb outside the building. "Get the door!" Eliot ordered, nearly having fun watching the security guard fall over himself to assist three thieves fleeing from the building. Parker groaned, grabbing at the scar on her face. The guard hurried back to the security desk after they exited. Parker dropped the act as they put distance between themselves and the building. She tossed the cane to Hardison, who deftly caught. She grabbed the car door handle, jerking it open. The three fell into the car before Nate sped away.

-O-

In half an hour, the four stood dressed in different clothes in a park in the middle of the city, impatiently waiting as Hardison worked on his laptop. "Come on, come on, it's only taking all night." Nate shoved his hands in his pockets. "Come on."

Hardison didn't look up. "I got a couple of Wi-Fi networks with some crappy bandwidth." he tapped a few more keys before the laptop pinged. "There you go." Hardison glanced at the people around him. "The designs are sent,"

"All right, all right. The money'll be in all your accounts later today." Nate said.

Hardison slid his computer into his messenger bag. "Anybody else notice how hard we rocked last night?"

Eliot moved, walking behind them, ready to leave. "Yeah, well, one show only, no encores," he replied.

"I already forgot your names," Parker said breezily.

Hardison pulled his bag closer to his side. "It was kinda cool bein' on the same side,"

Nate stepped toward Hardison. " No. We are not on the same side. I am not a thief,"

A mischievous gleam took life in Parker's eyes. "You are now. Come on Nathan, tell the truth," she said playfully. "Didn't you have a little bit of fun playing the Black King instead of the White Knight, just this once?" Nate refused to answer while they all went their separate ways.

 ** _Author's Note: Hey, guys! I've been reading on this site for absolute ages, but this is my first ever story on this site. I know the OC hasn't been mentioned or introduced yet, but I think that letting Nate and the team get acclimated to each other is definitely important to the plot. If you guys wanna leave a review or even just read my first story, any support would be super appreciated! Thanks a bunch! Xx_**


	2. The Nigerian Job: Burned

Nate jolted awake to the shrill sound of his phone ringing. His hand fumbled across the hotel nightstand, knocking over several small whiskey bottles. He opened the phone. Recognizing the number, he answered: "Yeah?"

The sounds of Dubenich yelling: "You screwed me!" effectively drove away any remnants of sleep but also caused his hangover to come to Nate's direct attention. "The designs never got to me!" Dubenich continued.

Nate struggled to sit up in the bed. "No. I watched them go out,"

"I don't know _what_ you saw, but I received _nothing_!"

"Look," Nate sighed. "I told you that you couldn't trust 'em,"

"It is not my job to trust anybody that is what you were here for. I am freezing the payments," he said frantically. "I am freezing all the payments."

"All right, look." Nate began calmly. "Look, I will come over there right now, we'll straighten this out."

Dubenich entered his office, calmly taking a sip of his coffee despite his frenzied voice. "No, no, no do not come here. My company has an old aircraft facility outside the city and I will text you the address and you be there, in one hour." Nate dropped his head against the headboard, dejectedly closing his phone.

-O-

Nate slowly entered into an abandoned warehouse, warily checking his surroundings. A peculiar sinking sensation in his stomach worsened as he tread further into the space. He walked past several iron containers, avoiding a water leak dripping from the ceiling. Every sound in the echoing box-like building seemed to be amplified. He didn't care when his clothes from the previous night brushed against a rusty canister. His head wrenched to the side when he heard Hardison's voice followed by a gun cocking. He continued to the entrance of large, empty room.

"You mind telling me what happened to the designs?" the young hacker said, pointing a gun squarely at Eliot's chest.

"What makes you think I know what happened?" Eliot questioned, his hands casually jutting out of his pockets. He tilted his head, grousing to no one in particular "Stupid,"

"Look, forget you, man. You did it when we were coming down from the elevator," he accused, unable to believe it himself.

Eliot narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, that makes sense doesn't it?" he made a vague motion. "You had the file every second."

"Hold up Kujo." Hardison shifted on his feet, his eyes darting to different corners of the room, ready to jump at any sound he didn't like. "I did my part, I transferred the files."

"You better get that gun out of my face…" Eliot said quietly.

"What you gon' do about it?"

"Or else I'm gonna feed it to ya," he continued, not stopping as Hardison interrupted.

Nate had heard enough, his temper flared as he marched into the room. "Hey!" he yelled.

The men turned, and Hardison pointed the gun at Nate. "Did you do it?" Eliot asked keenly, ignoring the way Hardison returned his aim to Eliot's chest."You're the only one who had ever played both sides."

Nate shrugged, nonchalant. "You seem pretty calm for a guy with a gun pointed at him,"

Eliot cast a wayward glance at the weapon. "Safety's on,"

Hardison's expression turned incredulous. "Like Imma believe that,"

"Uh, no. No. Actually, he's right. Safety is on," Nate said. Hardison turned the gun to check, and Nate grabbed it. Giving Hardison a reproachful glare, he asked Eliot: "Are you armed?"

Eliot shifted on his feet. "No," he said quietly before answering more loudly. "I don't like guns." Nate believed him.

Behind them, another gun clicked. Nate spun around, seeing Parker stride toward them, gun in her hand. Nate raised his stolen weapon, pointing it at the unhinged woman. "My money's not in my account." She came to stand in between Eliot and Hardison. "That makes me cry inside my special angry place."

"Ok, Parker." Nate cautiously pulled the gun from Parker's grip. She let him. "Now, did you come here to get paid?"

"Hell, Nah, man," Hardison replied. "Transfer of funds, man. Global economy,"

"Supposed to be a walkaway," Eliot said. "I'm never supposed to see you again,"

Nate looked around, suddenly coming to a dangerous realization. "And the only reason you guys are here is because you didn't get paid-" Nate started laughing. "And you're pissed off!" his laughter took on a nearly hysterical edge. Hardison crossed his arms skeptically while Eliot was quickly becoming annoyed. "Matter of fact, the only way to get us all in the same place at the same time is to tell us that we're not getting paid." his laughter began to subside as he talked more slowly and definitively.

The four looked amongst themselves before they began running toward a common exit. They darted up the stairs. Eliot dragged Hardison by his jacket when the younger man's foot caught against the last step. Nate glanced behind them as a ball of fire began to take form in the middle of the room they just escaped. The roar of an explosion would soon follow, he knew. They slid underneath the loading dock door. They had scarcely made it ten yards from the building when the shock wave of the explosion threw them all to the ground. The echoes of sirens and crackling of flames filled Nate's ears as his vision went black.

-O-

In his opinion, Nate's return to consciousness was completely regrettable. His head pounded, both from a hangover and what he felt to be a concussion from hitting the ground. His body jerked. He looked down when one of his hands was restricted. Handcuffs, he realized. "Oh," he sighed.

Eliot sat in the corner of the room, amused by Nate's despair despite being handcuffed himself. "You don't like hospitals,"

Nate tried to push himself up, his eyes darting from place to place. "No, not much," he replied. He yanked at the handcuffs again before he heard another voice through the connecting air vent.

"It's about time," Parker said.

Nate looked up to the vent. "What the-"

Parker paced through the room she shared with Hardison, who sat cross-legged on his own bed. Parker twirled her handcuffs, tossing them from hand to hand. "Cops and firemen got there just as we were waking up,"

"Where are we?" Nate asked.

Hardison propped his head on one of his hands. "County hospital," he answered. "Local cops- they responded to the explosion." Hardison lifted his chained wrist, motioning for Parker to assist him. She pointedly ignored him.

"Have we been processed?" Nate turned to Eliot, who lifted his ink-stained fingers in the answer. Nate examined his own inked fingers.

"They faxed our prints to the state police," Eliot said.

"Yo, if the staties run us, man, we're screwed," Hardison announced.

Parker finally acknowledged Hardison. "How long?"

Hardison tilted his head. "Oh, thirty..thirty-five minutes depending on the software,"

"They printed us twenty minutes ago." Parker shared an antsy glance with Hardison while Eliot spoke. "So unless we get out of here in the next ten minutes we all go to jail,"

Nate rolled his neck. "Yeah, alright, ...I, uh,"

"I can take these cops," Eliot offered.

From the opposite room, Nate heard: "Don't you dare," Parker warned. "You kill anyone, you screw up my getaway,"

"Hold up," Hardison interrupted. "I'm still handcuffed here. I can't even go to the bathroom. I gotta go,"

"Parker!" Nate said. "Get me a phone. What we're going to do is, we're going to get out of here together."

"This was a one time deal," Eliot snapped.

"Look, guys, here's your problem." The three thieves quieted. Parker crossed her arms while Hardison rubbed his temples, feeling a headache approaching. "You all know what you can do, I know what ALL you can do, so that gives me the edge, gives me the plan."

Parker shook her head. "I don't trust these guys," She told Nate.

Nate stilled before quietly questioning: "Do you trust me?"

Eliot's lips curved into an ironic smile. "Of course. You're an honest man,"

"Parker. Phone," Nate said.

Parker dropped her crossed arms, rolling her eyes. "This is gonna suck." She forced her fingers down her throat, bending over, throwing up.

Hardison's head whipped to the side. "Oh-" he grabbed the table, pulling himself further away. "Hell, nah!"

Pulling together whatever willpower he possessed, Hardison forced himself not to throw up while a doctor and two nurses helped Parker back to her bed. An officer placed the handcuffs back on her wrist. The doctor stuck a thermometer into Parker's mouth. He waited a few seconds after it beeped before pulling it out. Parker pulled a pitiable expression that forced Hardison to cover a knowing smile behind his hands.

"Nausea could mean a concussion," the doctor said; he gave the thermometer to the nurse, a middle-aged woman with a caring face. Parker glanced sharply at Hardison when the doctor looked away for a moment. Hardison's eyes were drawn to the cell phone in the nurse's pocket. "If you feel any more effects or blurred vision, tell the policeman right away,"

After checking Parker's restraints, the police officer followed the doctor and nurse out the door. When the door closed, Parker swung her legs over the bedside. The triumphant hacker and thief each held up the phones they had snatched. They tossed the devices, switching phones. Parker held up the handcuff keys, rattling them before tossing them to Hardison as well. Parker climbed on top of the bed, whispering into the vent. "Hey, Nate?" she pushed the small white phone into the vent.

Nate reached for it. "Ok, I got it." He turned around, throwing the phone to Eliot. "The trick is to give them what they want. They're expecting a phone call, right?"

Outside Parker's door, she heard the nurse fetch the police officer, telling him he had a phone call on line two. Hardison used the phone's camera to snap a picture of himself before going to work on the phone's keyboard. Eliot relaxed in his chair as he waited on the hospital's hold line.

"This is Deputy Burns," the officer's voice answered on the other side of the line.

Eliot's voice changed as he began to speak with the officer, his Oklahoma drawl lessening. "This is Detective Lieutenant Carden with the Illinois State Police. We got those prints that you sent us," he said. "The problem I have is, they're sending up all kinds of red flags. And I've got somebody on the phone for you from the FBI down there in Washington. Can ya hold, son?"

"Yes, sir," the trooper replied.

In the next room, Hardison typed information into the necessary fields on the e-fax website. "Come on," he murmured before smiling as the file sent.

Eliot tossed the phone to Nate. "Yeah, Deputy Burns, this is Deputy-Director McCumber, FBI. Yes, is our man alright?" Nate asked.

Nate was glad to hear the confusion in the officer's voice. "I'm sorry? I don't follow-"

"Deputy, listen to me the man that you have inside there is ours actually." Nate lied smoothly, leaving Eliot with the silent question of if Nathan Ford really was an honest man. "He's been in deep cover for three years."

"Seriously?" the officer said incredulously.

"That's correct. In fact, you should be receiving a fax any moment now confirming what I'm telling you." Nate waited for another officer to bring the counterfeit fax to the trooper to whom he was speaking. "Most of what I've told you is classified. I need to know I can trust you. Can I?" Nate waited for the trooper to fall into his honeytrap; he soon wasn't disappointed.

"Yes, sir,"

Snapping the phone shut, Nate smiled.

-O-

Hardison led Eliot to a conveniently provided police car outside the hospital's emergency room entrance. Parker and Nate waited inside the squad car. Hardison put his hand on top of Eliot's head, attempting to push the other man into the backseat, effectively ramming Eliot's head into the roof of the car. Eliot straightened, turning to glare at the hacker. "Walk it off. Walk…" Hardison said, enjoying himself while Eliot allowed himself to be guided into the backseat. "get inside. Get inside." he closed the door before pivoting to face the two officers. Hardison saluted the two officers, who enthusiastically returned the sentiment. "Men, it fills my heart with tears of joy, what you guys do. It does." Hardison retrieved the patrol keys from his pocket, sliding into the driver's seat.

In the rearview mirror, he watched a nurse walk up behind the officers, saying: "There's a call for you, State Police."

Hardison pulled the car into drive, stomping on the accelerator, disappearing.

-O-

After switching cars, Hardison drove to an affluent apartment complex in the downtown area. They rode the elevator to the penthouse floor in complete silence before Hardison erupted into a conversation when they reached the apartment entrance. "Four first class tickets to anywhere but here, coming up." He strode into the open space. Parker looked around, following closely behind Hardison. Exposed wood and brick decorated exterior walls while the high vantage point allowed an excellent view of the cityscape. A pool table set on the raised platform, separating the dining and living room.

"Whose place is this?" Parker asked.

Hardison flashed a boyish smile. "It's mine,"

Eliot turned into the living room area, an untargeted stare landing on the flat screen mounted on the wall. "I'm gonna beat Dubenich so bad that even the people who look like him are gonna bleed."

Parker leaned against a wooden pillar, crossing her arms. "You won't get within 100 yards. He knows your face. He knows all our faces,"

"He tried to kill us," he said irritably.

"More importantly, he didn't pay us," Parker replied.

Eliot motioned with his hand, his expression twisting in disbelief. "How is that more important?"

Parker replied airily: "I take that personally,"

He sat down on the back of the couch. "There's something wrong with you,"

At the other end of the room, Hardison sat behind his armory of computer monitors. He motioned for Nate. "Heads up, heads up. Look. Dubenich's story is 90 percent true." An article on Bering aerospace was displayed on one of the monitors. Nate glanced over his shoulder. "He is the head of Bering Aerospace- big rival to Pierson-, but, check out what my little web crawlers coughed up." On the opposite monitor, a video of a Pierson Aviation representative speaking to a CNN reporter began to play.

" _We've lost research that we've been working on for over five years."_ The representative said. " _Our servers have been sabotaged. Now we're going to pursue these perpetrators to the full extent of the law and with all the resources we have at our disposal."_

Nate came to stand behind Hardison. "Could be a cover story,"

He typed a few commands on the keyboard. A list of data rolled across the screen. "Here's a log of last night's rip. Internal timestamps on the project –" He said, looking at monitors. "2003, 2004, they're way, way down in the code. There's no reason to fake those man." he returned his gaze to Nate.

"So we didn't steal the plans back?" Eliot surmised.

"No," Parker said. "We were just stealin' them,"

"Why would Dubenich lie to us?" Hardison asked.

" 'Cause you're thieves," Nate answered. "If he hired you for a straight-up crime, you'd know he's a bad guy like you. You'd be suspicious. This way you just saw another citizen in over his head and that's why you didn't see the double cross coming,"

Parker quirked a brow. "Why didn't you see it coming?"

"Because I'm not a thief," Nate replied.

Eliot pushed himself from the couch, quickly tiring of Nate's self-righteous attitude. "You know what? Maybe that was the problem. If you-"

Hardison intercepted Eliot before he reached Nate. Hardison gave papers to Eliot and Parker. "Hey, hey, hey. I bought tickets to London, Rome, Paris, and Sao Paulo all matching the IDs that you gave me,"

Nate walked over to Hardison's monitors knowingly. "You're running,"

Eliot stuffed the paper into his jacket pocket. "Yes, sir. You got a better idea?"

Nate leaned onto the table, propping his hand onto the desk, zeroing into the photograph of Dubenich displayed. "No, no," he began speaking to the picture of Dubenich. He wore a wily expression. "You're running. Now that was a high-risk play. You got your balls tied to the stock price like a cinder block, shareholder meeting coming up." he didn't turn around when he spoke to the three behind him. "We can't let this guy have any time to cool down,"

"You wanna run a game on this guy?" Eliot said with a measured skepticism. "You?"

"Yeah. I mean, how do you think I got most of my stolen merchandise back?" he said turning to Eliot, Hardison, and Parker. He motioned to the monitors. "I mean, this guy he's greedy, he thinks he's smart, he's the best kind of mark,"

"He does think he got rid of us," Parker allowed, catching onto Nate's intended action, smiling.

Hardison smirked. "Element of surprise,"

"What's in it for me?" Eliot asked.

"Payback, and, if it goes right, a lot of money," Nate answered.

Parker stepped forward, questioning: "What's in it for me?"

"A lot of money, and if it goes right, payback," he said, tailoring his response to the order Parker wanted to hear. While Parker's lips curved into a smile, Nate asked: "Hardison?"

Hardison grinned. "I was just gonna send a thousand porno magazines to his office, but, uh,.. hell yeah, man. Let's kick him up." he paused. "What do we need?"

An unknown twinkle entered Nate's eyes. "We need the Third Man,"

A fraction of Hardison's enthusiasm gave way to confusion. Sharing a glance with Parker, who offered a shrug, he asked: "What? Like the movie? I mean I guess-"

"No," Nate said, pulling a clean cell phone from his coat pocket. "I'll take care of that,"

"What's in it for you?" Eliot asked.

Nate's chin dropped, his jaw clenching and his brow knitting together. His voice lowered. "He used my son." He cleared his throat, his voice returning to normal. "Alright." He brushed past Parker and Eliot, dialing a familiar number. "Let's go get Sophie," he said, walking back through the living room and the next hall, lifting the cell phone to his ear. His voice became quieter as he went farther away from Parker, Hardison, and Eliot. "Hey,..no, no, no. No, I'm ok. Are you still in the city? I need a favor,"

Parker and Hardison followed Nate while Eliot stayed behind, asking no one in particular, "The hell's a Sophie?"

 _ **Author's note: Hey, guys! I seriously can't believe people actually took time to read my story. I am on absolute cloud nine! :-) I know the OC still hasn't been "introduced" but we did get a subtle mention at the end of the story. Did anyone get the 'Third Man' hint? (;-D I'm sure everyone did, but I have this delusion that I am a clever person, lol. ) I know we're taking a little longer to get to the OC than other stories, but I didn't want this to feel forced. Leverage was such an amazing show with such diverse characters and an amazing storyline. I just want to humbly honor the writers' creation. Xx**_

 _ **ann. ryce : I hope you don't think that my responding to your comment is weird, but I just wanted to say a huge thank you. Thank you so much for reading the first chapter AND for even taking time to comment. Best wishes!**_


	3. The Nigerian Job: The Third Man

Nate waited alone outside the nondescript theater, waiting for his 'Third Man' to arrive. He had changed his clothes; a pristinely pressed, black turtleneck had replaced the old wrinkled button-up, and a dark coat swayed in the breeze. Hardison, Parker, Eliot waited for him inside the theater, watching the performance in grand horror no doubt. He watched as a yellow taxi pulled up to the curb. A woman with light brown hair tied into a ponytail in her mid-twenties stepped out of the cab after tossing a decent tip to the front seat. Nate moved forward while the woman hopped onto the curb. They stood in front of each other for a long moment. She broke first, cracking a broad grin.

"Hey, Nate,"

A smile tugged at the edges of his lips. "Hello, Liza,"

Still preferring flowery patterns, Elizabeth Sinclair possessed the brightest green eyes Nate had ever come across and a mind that almost rivaled his own. _Almost_. He recalled when Liza had been living with Maggie and himself when she was nineteen. He had made the mistake of taking her to I.Y.S. to work with him one day. The day had ended with Liza exposing a jewel thief hidden within the company's ranks and that said thief had been having an affair with the CEO's wife.

Liza opened her arms. "C'mon. No hug?"

Before Nate could object, Liza had already launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug. He pulled back first. "Thanks for coming to meet me on such short notice." Nate shifted on his feet, still retaining eye contact. "I wasn't sure if you'd-"

"You should know better by now," she said, holding up her hand. "You call, I come in swingin'. That's how this works." That soft Georgia drawl that had charmed his ex-wife and fascinated his son manifested. She looked up at the theater's sign. "You tryin' out a new show and realize you don't remember how to socialize with other human beings?" She teased. When he didn't answer, she continued more seriously. "What's going on, Nate? Is everything ok? Is Maggie-"

"No, no," he interrupted. "Everything's good, fine." he tilted his head, his words coming from his mouth in fast succession. "I took this job with Bering Aerospace. One of the executives.."

"Not so nice?" She guessed.

He pressed his lips together in a frown. "Yeah, not so nice,"

She sighed, crossing her arms. "You really need some new friends,"

His brow furrowed. "Hmm, not my friend," he grumbled.

"Not that I don't enjoy getting a call from you, but you usually don't call unless you need something. So what do you need?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "You getting tired of working freelance yet?"

Her eyes narrowed while she pushed black framed glasses further up her nose. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Thing is," he said, ignoring her question. His tone reminded Liza of when he tried to recruit her to work with IYS. She knew Nate didn't like to lose; she also knew that would never change "This guy, Dubenich. He screwed me, and when he screwed me, he put a lot of people's work and jobs in danger,"

"So what d'ya want me to do about it? Profile him into oblivion?" Liza said, her eyes widening. "Because that's what I do. I know what people are gonna do and how they're gonna do it. I'm not like you, Nate. I don't take people head-on." She moved her hands, gesticulating wildly. "I can't-"

"I don't need you to be like me. If I didn't need you, I wouldn't have called. You know I wouldn't 've," Nate replied imperviously. "Now, I have this crew-"

"Hold it right there. You know I work alone. I don't have a lot of rules, I really don't." Liza dropped her arms. "But if there's one thing I don't bend on,"

His reply was instant. "You work with me,"

She gave a harsh breath. "You know that's different,"

"Look, I know this past year and a half has been hell, Liza. Especially for you and me," his voice had become softer. "But I would like to have you on this. Besides, if it goes right, pay's not gonna be anything to sneeze at either,"

"You have these guys, why do you need me?" she asked, feeling her dam of resolve beginning to crack.

"I can manage this team. I know what they're capable of," he said in a knowing and lofty tone. "I know what you're capable of. I can manage this... I need you to manage everything else," She looked at him for a long moment. "So what's the answer?" he jerked his head to the theater. "Show's about to start,"

She scrubbed a hand over her face, groaning, "Damn you, Nate Ford,"

He smiled, pivoting in the direction of the door while she followed after him. "Let's go get Sophie,"

"Wait," Her mouth dropped. " _The_ Sophie?"

-O-

Liza followed Nate while he forked over the few necessary dollars for admission for the two of them. They went up a few stairs, entering the small auditorium. The production had just started, the spotlights turning on, illuminating the dingy medieval set. Three people waited in the back row, two men and a woman, watching the stage intently. At the sound of soft footsteps, Eliot turned around, his arms crossed. He saw Nate before noticing the woman behind him. Liza's breath caught in her throat when she recognized her, a pang of fear darting through her chest. _Eliot Spencer._ Her mind traveled back to a memory of Yemen in 2006; her classified profile of him had caused Eliot some trouble when he tried to topple the current regime. She could only hope her identity had never been leaked. She looked at the others. _Alec Hardison, Parker._ Those were some names she had heard of a time or two.

Her eyes darted to Nate's back while she thought: ' _Oh, Nate, what did you do?'_

Nate leaned against one of the chairs in between Hardison and Eliot. He gave a wayward glance to Liza and, then as if suddenly recalling, introduced: "Guys, Liza. Liza, you know Parker, Hardison, and Eliot,"

"This is your 'Third Man'?" Hardison asked, surprised. Parker quirked an appraising brow, gauging the other woman, before turning back around as the director came on stage announcing the first act.

"Yeah," Eliot answered slowly in close succession to Hardison's remark, raking his eyes over Liza. "Hate to break it to you about the 'Man' part,"

"Your criminal records don't do you all justice I'm sure," Liza rejoined, coming to stand in between Nate and Eliot. "Seriously, you've got to stop with this Third Man crap," she muttered to Nate. "You'll make somebody think I'm in the mob or somethin'."

Nate stifled a smile, only continuing to watch the stage as the first set actors and actresses came into the arena. Liza took note of the sparsely populated audience- a middle-aged couple who were no doubt family of the male lead, an older gentleman taking a nap in the front seat, and a young man writing furiously in his notebook. It wasn't long after the first set of actors left that a woman in an elegant crimson gown. Nate watched Sophie's performance intently, enraptured by the woman on stage, while the remaining four of his crew looked on in horror.

Sophie frolicked and writhed across the stage. "Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts." She dropped to her knees, dramatically throwing her arms to the side. She leaned to the side, gesturing to her body. "Unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst! Make thick my blood,"

Parker curled her lip in extreme distaste while Hardison's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Nate appeared to be moved by the outrageous performance, still captivated. Liza's nose wrinkled while she shook her head from side-to-side. Eliot was unable to move, his brow furrowed and his mouth slightly agape.

Sophie persevered through her performance with vigor."Stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no…" She paused before restarting her next line. "That no compunctious visitings of nature,"

At the back of the theater, Hardison criticized, unable to take his eyes away from the lone figure on stage. "She is very awful,"

"Is she injured?" Parker asked, genuinely confused. "In the head?"

"I have never wanted Lady MacBeth to die so quickly in my entire life," Liza said, momentarily glancing at Nate. "You may have slightly over exaggerated this Devereaux woman's ..umm.. skills,"

Resting his arms atop one of the chairs, Eliot observed: "Seriously, man. This is the worst actress I've ever seen,"

"This is not her stage," Nate answered before walking away, retreating down the stairs.

-O-

Nate, Parker, Liza, Hardison, and Eliot waited at the end of the alleyway as Sophie exited the theater. Liza, Parker, and Hardison leaned against the car while Nate and Eliot stood near brick exterior. Sophie adjusted the straps on her purse, searching for something in the bottom of the bag.

"No," Eliot said in an obstinate tone. "No, I vote no,"

Nate didn't take his eyes off Sophie. "Parker's right. Dubenich knows us, and we need a fresh face." Nate took a few steps forward, clapping as Sophie approached. "I thought you were great,"

A genuineness took hold of the grifter's expression, a quality Liza had yet to see that night. "My only fan," she replied. Flashes of Paris, stolen paintings, and mistaken gunshot wounds charged to the forefront of Nate's mind. "I'm a citizen now. Honest," she smiled.

Nate considered for a moment, almost flirtatious when he replied: "I'm not,"

"You're playing my side?" she questioned. He tilted his head to the side, shrugging a shoulder. Sophie looked over his shoulder at the other people standing near the end of the alley. Liza lifted her fingers in a wave. Sophie looked back to Nate. "I always thought you had it in you,"

Nate hid a smile. "Um..are you in?"

Sophie nodded. "I wouldn't miss this,"

Nate became flustered for a short moment. For several years, Sophie had always been the one that got away, the one thief the great Nathan Ford could never catch. He suddenly realized he hadn't expected her to agree. He turned around, clapping his hands together once, saying in a loud voice, "All right. All right, let's, uh, let's break the law just one more time,"

Nate opened the passenger door for Sophie while the remaining four squeezed into the back row. Nate dropped into the driver's seat, speeding away back to Hardison's loft.

-O-

 _ **The next afternoon...**_

Much to Hardison's initial dismay, the team swiftly made themselves comfortable in the penthouse while Hardison gathered more information on Dubenich. Nate situated himself on the armrest. Sophie sat cross-legged on the sofa, taking notes while Parker rested on the opposite side, her feet propped on the coffee table. Hardison and Liza sat on the couch adjacent to the television screen. Eliot came from the kitchen, a big bowl of popcorn in one hand and a beer in the other.

"Victor Dubenich, executive vice-president in charge of new technology development over at Bering Aerospace," Hardison explained as Eliot kicked the younger man's legs out of the way, allowing Liza to steal a handful of popcorn. He stepped over Parker's legs before sitting next to Sophie. " Rich daddy, trust fund, Yale MBA. Blah, blah blah,"

Liza studied the pictures on the screen carefully, flipping the pages of information on her lap. "A malignant narcissist. Great,"

Nate took a sip of his coffee. "Victor? Now when was the last time you met a Victor?"

"Vietnam. Town called Banho Zay," Eliot answered.

Liza's eyes went to Eliot. "The Chinese border?" she asked, tossing some popcorn into her mouth.

Eliot leaned back into his seat, looking at Liza consideringly. "That's an odd thing for you to know,"

"That's an odd place for you to be," she countered.

Sophie offered a hum, tilting her head, giving Eliot a wayward glance. "She's got a good point,"

"Now Bering is in charge of a lot of big fat government contracts," Hardison continued. "Some Department of Defense research, very classified stuff,"

"Can we use that?" Parker asked.

"No, I don't think so," Hardison said, pointing to the screen. "Dubenich is in charge of their commercial airline business,"

"Alright. I know when you sent Dubenich his designs, you weren't supposed to make any copies." Nate turned in Hardison's direction.

Hardison placed a hand over his heart, offering an offended expression. " No, I promise. That would be very wrong,"

Unimpressed, Nate said: "Show me your copies." A moment passed before Hardison cracked a small grin. He pressed a button on the remote, and schematics, records, and other documents floated onto the screen. Nate pushed himself to his feet, setting his coffee on the table.

"It's an airplane," Eliot said.

"It's a short alt domestic airliner, yeah, usually one-hour flights. It's the fastest growing segment of the industry, very fuel efficient. High tech," Nate explained easily, coming to stand behind the couch Hardison and Liza were sitting. Eliot stilled, pulling off his glasses in disbelief. Hardison looked at Nate, raising his brows. A piece of popcorn missed Liza's mouth when she turned in surprise to Nate. Sophie and Parker were the only ones who didn't appear to be surprised. "Very nice carbon nose, it's got the titanium wrap. 3 to 1,"

"When did you become an expert on airplanes?" Liza questioned, picking up the piece of popcorn she dropped before reaching for the pizza on the table.

"You know, you pick up things here and there," he replied.

"You pick up a lot of stuff," Hardison commented. Parker let out a short laugh. Hardison directed a picture of both Pierson and Dubenich onto the screen. "Check this out. Now Dubenich and Pierson- they were head to head for five years trying to grab the lead in an industry that's worth like eleventy-billion dollars,"

"So Pierson got there first," Parker figured. "And Dubenich took a shortcut,"

Nate stared at the screen. "So he's got a rival. He's got a rival that pisses him off so much he hired us to steal his designs. This is good,"

"What are you thinking, Nate?" Sophie asked.

"I'm thinking Nigerians," he said quietly, nearly to himself. "Yeah, Nigerians will do nicely." he smiled to himself as he stalked away.

Sophie moved her pen through her fingers. The remaining four on the couches looked to her for an answer for Nate's peculiar behavior. Sophie returned to note taking, down turning her head, simply replying: "Well, he hasn't changed a bit,"

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _**Hello, dears! Well, I humbly (and finally!) present to you my OC Elizabeth Sinclair, or as we shall call her: Liza. I hope this OC will have a smooth transition into this story and a realistic interaction with the rest of the cast. If anyone has any ideas as to whom you think Liza most resembles in the real world, give me some celebrity (or noncelebrity) resemblances to look up. I always think that people's creative opinions are super interesting! :-) I hope I have kept everyone in character as well as keeping the story rolling instead of hindering it. As always, I am up for some comments. Let me know what you're thinkin'! I hope everyone reading this has a fantastic day and rest of their week.**_

 _ **Xx.**_

tigerlilyschild: Hey, thanks for commenting on my story. :-) The reason the first two chapters are just of the opening scenes with nothing new added is that I thought it was important we introduce Nate and the team before the OC. This story is a rewrite of season one with the insertion of my OC Liza. I hope you'll continue reading my story after she has been fully introduced to the team! Best wishes! Xx


	4. The Nigerian Job: Somebody Call IT?

Victor Dubenich exited the elevator at precisely 8:57 a.m., hastily walking down the hallway to his office. He walked past his secretary's desk without a second glance. He stopped just shy of his door when his secretary told him: "Your nine o'clock is here,"

Dubenich turned to the woman. "My…?" he trailed off when he was struck by the imperial image of Sophie Devereaux sitting in a chair in the corner of the entry room. From the moment he glimpsed the hypnotic creature, Victor Dubenich hadn't stood a chance.

"Mr. Dubenich," Sophie greeted, standing. Her voice lilted in a pleasant South African accent. "Anna Gunschtot, African Commercial Transport and Trade Initiative." She gave him a business card.

Across town at the loft, Hardison sat down in his desk chair. "Here comes the mountain of suck," Hardison said. While Nate paced behind the two of them, Liza pulled up another chair and sat next to Hardison, replying:

"C'mon, she might not be that bad." After her weak defense, Hardison cast her a dubious expression. "Well." she turned to face the monitors. "It could happen,"

Dubenich studied the business card before whirling around and stalking to his office. Sophie followed at her own pace while the secretary watched the other woman leave. "You government?" he asked.

"No, no. Private business consortium," Sophie answered, walking through the door of his office. She went to the windows on the other end of the office, gazing out to the towering office buildings of Los Angeles. "We are looking to encourage infrastructure development and economic renewal,"

Dubenich still held Sophie's business card and his briefcase. "I have no idea what that means in English," he chuckled nervously. "What does that mean?"

Sophie's charming demeanor relieved him of some of his anxieties. "We create jobs and trade in Africa," she replied, meeting his eyes. "Keep the graft and the stealing manageable,"

Liza stared at the screens' sound analysis in amazement while Hardison said: "She's not awful…"

Nate took another turn, his pride in Sophie showing when he spoke: "This is her stage. Sophie Devereaux is the finest actress you've ever seen…" he leaned over Hardison's shoulder. "when she's breaking the law,"

They listened as Dubenich replied cynically: "Keep graft and stealing manageable in Africa? Good luck but I don't think I can help. I don't think any human being on Earth can help you with that. Sorry."

Sophie's eyes narrowed unnoticeably before her smile widened. She stepped away from the window. "Come on. Let's go and talk somewhere a little less formal, eh?"

Dubenich shook his head, a confused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Sophie walked out of his office without saying another word. He tossed his briefcase onto the chair across from his desk, folding the business card further into his hand. "Uh, no, no, no." he followed her out of the door, taking reluctant steps. His receptionist watched in great interest as her boss trailed after the woman. "Look, I, Miss, ah…" Nearly without realizing it, Dubenich had left his office completely.

Nate paused in his pacing. "Ok." he waited until Sophie led Dubenich to the elevator. "And, now,"

Hardison leaned closer to the screen while Liza reclined further into her chair, watching the young man closely. Hardison's fingers slid across the keys, accessing the secretary's computer. With a few easy strokes, he sent the necessary commands. He only had to wait a moment before he heard the secretary's distressed mutterings of: "No. No, no." she frantically hit keys, the Blue Screen of Death lighting up her screen. "No, no, no, please." Her head fell into her palm.

In the Bering Aerospace's air ducts, Parker finished splicing wires just as the call came in. She lifted the red device to her ear while lying comfortably in the cramped space. She forced a bright, cheery smile. "Hello. IT,"

"Yeah, this is Victor Dubenich's office, my computer just completely crashed," the secretary said.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Did you try turning it on and off again?" Parker asked, ignoring Hardison's praise.

"Yes, nothing seems to be working,"

"We've got somebody on your floor already," Parker replied.

"Thank you," the secretary placed the handset back onto the receiver. She leaned back in her chair before she noticed an unknown man in khakis, a short sleeve, plaid shirt, and blue tie. Eliot hid blue eyes behind thick-framed glasses while his hair had been combed within an inch of its life. He cast a spellbinding smile.

"Somebody call IT?"

-O-

Sophie and Dubenich walked side by side as they exited the building. Cars bustled in the background while a few men and women dressed in formal business attire littered the stone platform. A mild breeze rustled both the tree leaves and Sophie's hair. Dubenich lifted his head to watch her as she spoke.

"I represent a group of investors who are looking to start an airline for short tour flights in Africa," she said, beginning down the flight of stairs which led to the lower level.

"Of Johannesburg?" Dubenich asked.

"Ok, he's testing you, Sophie." Nate directed. Liza looked back at Nate, mouthing the name of a different city. "You want Bloemfontein." Liza offered a thumbs-up before taking a bite out of her apple.

Sophie waved her hand dismissively. "Stay away from the hubs. Revitalize the regional airports. In South Africa, Bloemfontein for example. But really, it's Nigeria we're focused on,"

"Perfect," Nate said. Hardison took a drink of the orange soda next to him.

"Most of their airport runways are a mess," Dubenich disputed.

"I believe new airplanes will make people more comfortable while we renew old runways," Sophie replied, looking back to Dubenich.

Dubenich scratched the side of his head. "Uh huh. I don't recall saying anything about new airplanes,"

Sophie quirked a haughty brow, holding to the railing as she continued down the stairs. "Victor." She drew out his name, softening its harshness. "Both you and your chief engineer are scheduled to speak at your shareholder's meeting,"

"I think you know more about my business than I do," Dubenich flirted.

Liza wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. "Wow," she mumbled. "I _really_ don't like this guy,"

"I've done my homework," Sophie responded. As she reached the last step, she turned to look at him. "I find you fascinating,"

Dubenich stopped, huffing a laugh. "You..uh?" Waiting until the woman was out of earshot, he repeated quietly, pleased with himself. "Fascinating? Hmm,"

-O-

Parker lifted one of the ceiling tiles before dropping to the couch below. The thief still retained the headlight strapped to her forehead. Eliot saw her from the corner of his eye while nodding along to whatever the secretary was saying to him. Fighting back a wave of irritation when Parker had the audacity to wave at him, he hastily pulled the secretary's chair closer to him, turning her away from Dubenich's office. "Let me show you how to- uh- reconnect with the network," Eliot said.

Hardison's brow furrowed. "Now, shouldn't I be playing the computer guy?"

Liza pushed his chair with her foot. "Dude. We actually need you to _be_ the computer guy, remember?"

Parker swiftly moved across the office, pulling a flash drive from her bag. She sat at the desk, opening the laptop. She connected the drive, downloading the files Hardison and Liza had requested. She bent over, placing a bug beneath the desk before returning to her work at the computer.

At the secretary's desk, Eliot continued his act of IT guy while Hardison fed him the necessary instructions over the comms. He hoped Hardison was giving the right instructions, for the young hacker's sake. His eyes remained on the screen until the woman reached for the mouse. He placed his hand over hers, guiding it. Her cheeks flushed a bright pink while she gave an embarrassed smile. He caught her gaze, and the secretary found herself unable to move.

"And reboot.," he said to himself. "Voila,"

The secretary pulled her hand away, grazing his forearm. "You're pretty strong for a computer guy,"

Eliot pulled off his glasses, smiling. "Why, thank you. I like to work out. And try to stay big 'cause I love dressing up like a Klingon and going to all the conventions, you know." he explained before yelling, "Bacla!" causing her to jump back in her chair. He reached out. "Sorry."

She giggled. "It's okay." she said before returning with her own cry of, "Bacla!"

Eliot narrowed his eyes, shaking his glasses at her playfully. "Oh! Don't you tease me,"

Hardison shook his finger at his screens, his voice filled with disgust and indignation. "Oh, hold up, man, that is not … that is not cool. That is not cool. We gonna have a strong talk when you get back." he shook his head. "Disgrace to geeks everywhere,"

Liza laughed. "I seriously doubt she is checking out his geek credentials right now,"

Parker removed the flash drive before silently dashing across the room and pulling herself back into the ductwork. Eliot leaned closer to the secretary. "You've got unbelievably blue eyes."

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Thank you,"

"They're stunning. Just breathtakingly blue," Eliot said as Parker replaced the ceiling tile disappearing from view.

-O-

Sophie walked to the railing overlooking the water and several rocking boats while Dubenich stopped a couple of meters away. "Uh, sorry, is it Gunshot?" he asked. She shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry,"

Sophie offered a reassuring smile. "Gunschtot,"

Dubenich fidgeted, shifting from side to side as he came to stand next to her. "I'm sorry. Really sorry,"

Sophie presented a compromise. "Anna,"

"Anna, thank you," Dubenich said before continuing: "How's this? If we announce a new product, then you can order as many as your little heart desires,"

Sophie heard Nate's next instructions through the comm: "Okay, you know what to do. Hit him,"

"We'd also like to build the planes." Sophie leaned against the railing. "More jobs. Build them in Africa, fly them in Africa, sell the rest around the world,"

"Well, that's very ambitious," Dubenich allowed. "You have the manufacturing facilities to do all that?"

Sophie looked at him as if he were ridiculous for even mentioning such an absurd idea. "Ah! We can easily raise the money to build the facilities if we know for certain we're going to get the contracts,"

Nate smiled. "Atta, girl,"

Dubenich hesitated, frowning. "Anna, I'm really sorry, but I can't help you,"

Liza squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Crap,"

Hardison sighed, glancing at Nate. "It was a nice try man,"

Unconcerned, Nate scrutinized the screen. "Wait for it,"

Sophie nodded, looking at the ground for a moment. "I understand," she said.

Dubenich examined his watch. "And I really do have…"

Sophie interrupted: "I'll take it to Pierson,"

Hardison's eyes shot to the screen in disbelief while Nate waited. Liza sank back into her chair, an appraising expression on her face. Perhaps, she had judged the former Lady MacBeth too soon?

Dubenich clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He bit the inside of his cheek, forcing disinterest. He pushed lightly against the stone near his hand. "Pierson? Uh, sure, go ahead, Pierson's a great company, I don't think they can help you, but…" he said, averting his gaze.

Sophie nodded strongly. "Oh, they have a reputation for long-term investment, you don't. They're innovators." she pretended to contemplate her idea once again. "Yeah, it's probably a better fit."

"I know-I'm well aware that you're manipulating me, Anna,"

"Well, I should hope so. Hundreds of millions of dollars in new contracts, a lot of good press." She leaned closer while he took a half-step back. "All at your door," Sophie smiled.

"Okay, I give up, I'll take the meeting," he conceded. He reached out to shake her hand but was surprised when she walked away without taking it. His eyes lingered on her form as she walked away from him, beginning up the stairs again.

"I'll have my office call you," Sophie said.

He shook away the fog surrounding his senses. "What?" his brow furrowed before he covered his faux pas. "Yeah,"

She pulled herself up the first step. "Day after tomorrow?"

Dubenich nodded. "Uh, yeah sure," he said before saying more loudly: "Look forward to doing business with you!"

Hardison grinned and high-fived an equally excited Liza. She beamed when she saw the wide smile on Nate's face. Nate slapped Hardison on the shoulder before the two men shook hands.

-O-

Sophie remained in the kitchen, attempting to find something to eat besides Hardison's unhealthy array of orange soda, tiny cakes, and cold pizza. Parker had disappeared into the halls of the penthouse. No one would have been surprised if she had decided to explore the air ducts and fallen asleep. Eliot and Nate played pool in the back of the main room while Liza watched from her place on her barstool and worked on her accumulating file laying on the counter. Hardison sat at his desk, rubbing his tired eyes. In the next few minutes, Parker reappeared with a clear box filled with locks, collapsing onto the couch and beginning to pick the locks while timing herself. Liza decided not to ask where she found them. Sophie came to sit next to Liza, who smiled at the additional company. Sophie silently offered the young woman a piece of chocolate which Liza readily took.

"I knew I liked you," Liza told her, and Sophie snickered.

"Yo, Nate." Hardison turned his head as the older man came toward his desk. Nate leaned over Hardison's shoulder. He watched as financial records, different files, and folders appeared on the screens. "I got all his financials off his hard drive and all his passwords,"

"Yeah, good job," Nate offered a small yet pleased smile. He pivoted on his heel, leaving the hacker to his work again. Nate stepped onto the platform. He picked up his cue stick.

"Your shot," Eliot said, offering him a beer.

Nate shook his head. "No thanks." Nate lined up his next shot. "Five corner," he remarked before hitting the ball into the pocket.

"You look better than when we started," Eliot said, grabbing his beer and leaning against the pool table.

Nate sighed, standing straight. "Yeah... uh." Nate took an uneasy step forward.

Eliot regarded him carefully. "And that bothers you, huh?"

Nate set his cue stick against the pool table. "...I-I uh, well this isn't supposed to feel-"

"Good?" Eliot offered. The man's easiness threw Nate on his guard. "It's not that hard to figure out. Dubenich screwed you." he tipped his beer bottle in Nate's direction. "He cheated by stealing from that other company and your good guy brain sees him as the bad guy. Your conscience is clear." he smiled faintly.

Becoming irritable and impatient, Nate motioned to the table. "You wanna take your shot?"

He nodded, taking a drink. Eliot hesitated for a half-second before saying more quietly and sincerely. "Listen, I'm sorry about your kid,"

Liza's head whipped around, eyes flashing. Eliot caught her intended message very clearly: ' _Thin ice, Spencer_ ,'. Nate shook his head once. "You don't know anything about that,"

"Everybody knows. A guy like you goes off the street a lot of people notice," Eliot said. "And it was a bad story, too. How did they justify that, huh?" his voice became indignant. "The insurance company just not paying for his treatment?"

Nate looked to the side. The memory of his son laying on an OR table while the heart monitor flatlined sprung into his thoughts. Not meeting Eliot's eyes, he replied: "They claimed it was experimental,"

Eliot's reply was instant. "You should have kept one of those Monets you found. You fence that—"

Nate finally looked at Eliot, feigning conceit. "Eliot, you and I are not friends,"

Eliot offered a phony smile. "Right. Right. Because you have so many of them." Eliot took a few steps back, tipping his bottle in the direction over Nate's shoulder. "Incoming,"

Nate turned his head as Sophie came to stand next to him. Liza moved past them, going to the pool table, stopping Eliot from leaving. "Hey, can you help me with this earpiece?" Sophie asked, tugging at Nate's arm.

Liza listened as Nate half-heartedly attempted to pawn off the task to Hardison before he acquiesced after another gentle prod from Sophie. While Nate aided Sophie, Liza asked Eliot: "Mind if I take Nate's spot?" She moved her bangs further away from her eyes. Eliot shook his head, motioning to the cue stick against the wall. "Solids and stripes, right?" His brow rose in surprise, but he only nodded in response. She chalked the end. "Your turn," she prompted, ignoring Sophie and Nate's flirting. However, ignoring anything of interest appeared not to be within Hardison's forte as the hacker slid his chair across the room, letting out a long 'ooh'. Nate went to the couch, ignoring the young man.

Eliot took his shot, the ball missing the pocket by inches. He scowled. Liza lined up her next shot. The ball tipped into the pocket as Eliot asked: "Why are you here, Sinclair?"

Surprise transformed into a grimace in seconds. "Don't call me that." She examined the placement of the billiard balls on the green tabletop. " 's just Liza,"

He shrugged a shoulder. "Ok. Why are you here, Liza?"

"Small talk isn't one of your strong qualities, is it?" she quipped, leaning against the cue stick.

He took his next shot. "Wanna know what I think?"

She snorted. "No, but, somehow, I get the feelin' you're gonna tell me anyway,"

"Nate, I get. Dubenich brought him in to manage us. But you?" he tipped his bottle in her direction. He smiled falsely, a facade she didn't think suited him. "What's your game?"

"Has anyone told you that you have a suspicious mind?" she asked while he positioned the ball when she scratched. The smile became a bit more genuine at that.

"You didn't answer the question,"

"Well, I-I, uh," she paused. When she did, Nate called her name as he exited the room. She swiveled her head around. "Yeah?"

"Don't forget you're with Sophie on this one tomorrow,"

She saluted. "Yes, boss." She wasn't surprised when Nate didn't answer; he continued down the hall entering the room he had chosen to stay in.

Eliot set his beer on the table's edge. "Your shot," he said.

She cleared her throat, walking around to the end of the table, lining up her cue stick. "Nine, corner pocket,"

 _ **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**_

 _ **Author's note:**_ _ **Hi, Guys! I can't believe this story has over 200 views. When I first posted this story, I had no idea that anyone was actually going to read it. So again I must say, thank you. :-) As always, I am up for comments or messages, even if it's just to say that you freaked out when you saw Christain Kane casually leaning against a pool table. ...ok, lemme rephrase that. Comment or message me especially if it's about Christian Kane, period. I am always 1768% down for that kind of conversation. Thanks for reading!**_

 _Guest:_ _Liza will definitely be playing a bigger part in the story starting now. Now that she has been introduced to the team and has a semi-definitive role, she will become a main fixture. I hope you continue Liza's story with me!_

 _wildcat717:_ _Thank you so much! I really appreciate that! This is the first fanfic I've ever written, like ever, so I hope I do alright with these characters. Thanks for commenting! Hope to hear from you again soon. ;-)_


	5. The Nigerian Job: Thin Ice

Nate sat in an uncomfortable and incredibly expensive, iron, cafe chair as he waited for Dubenich's car to arrive. Hardison was seated across from Nate. Nate pointedly ignored Hardison's comment about how reading a newspaper while surveilling was a stereotype he would never submit to. The sound of a car engine stopping behind him had Nate's head turning. Dressed in a dark suit, Dubenich stepped out of the car, removing his sunglasses as he examined the building to which his driver had brought him. He moved onto the sidewalk while Nate returned his attention to the newspaper he held.

"Sophie, he's on site," Nate said when Dubenich pushed through the revolving glass doors.

-O-

On the tenth floor, Sophie glanced to Liza, a vague sense alarm gleaming in her dark eyes. Both women were dressed in business attire while Liza's glasses had disappeared, replaced by contacts. Liza looked at the men inside the conference room, who conversed among themselves, paying no attention to the woman outside. Sophie reached up to her ear. "What? No, we're not ready,"

-O-

Nate leaned forward in his seat. "If you don't meet him right now in the lobby, he's going to go to the building directory and look for the office number." His voice grew louder as he continued. "Guys, we are not in the building directory," Nate observed as Dubenich checked his wristwatch impatiently.

Going up one of the building's emergency stairwells, Eliot halted. He adjusted his grip on the toolbag and sign clutched in either of his hands. "And why aren't we in the directory?" he demanded.

Hardison folded his arms across his chest. "Oh, I don't know," he answered, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Maybe because they're fake offices,"

-O-

Sophie ran to the elevators as quickly as her high heels would allow her. She looked over her shoulder, saying to Liza: "Stay here, and help Eliot." the other woman nodded while Sophie repeatedly hit the elevator button, groaning when nothing happened. "There's no elevator,"

Liza began to pace, the black pencil skirt not allowing for a very long gait.

-O-

Nate's fingertips rubbed against his forehead. Nate pushed himself to his feet, picking up a quick stride. Hardison jumped from his own seat, following the older man. "All right I'll distract him," Nate said decisively.

-O-

Liza stopped suddenly. "Parker, do you have an extra harness?" She heard a dubious reply of 'yes' from the blonde.

Over the comms, Liza heard: "Good," Nate continued where Liza left off. "Because you've got fifteen seconds to get Sophie to the lobby,"

Parker opened the emergency stairwell door in the hallway adjacent to where Sophie waited. "Sophie!" Parker hissed. Sophie jogged over the thief, turning the next corner and catching the black harness Parker tossed.

"What's going on?" Sophie questioned. She looked down to the harness.

"Put that on," Parker ordered.

"What's it for?" Sophie asked, continuing toward Parker more hesitantly.

"Speed," Parker said, looking only slightly unhinged when she yanked Sophie into the stairwell. Eliot brushed past them as he exited the stairwell, running down the hall. Liza met him at the connecting wall. He set down his equipment, letting the sign lean against the wall.

-O-

Nate continued down the sidewalk until he stood directly across from the office building entrance. He retrieved a retractable baton from his coat pocket. When Hardison saw the weapon, he pivoted on his heel, ducking his head and whistling in an innocuous way. With a powerful flick of his wrist, the baton in Nate's hand lengthened. He stepped into the street, glancing around for a moment before he turned to the car next to him. Using his weight and strength to his advantage, he lunged, bashing in the driver's side window. The car's alarm roared to life.

Inside the building lobby, Dubenich paused only briefly, looking over his shoulder before continuing in the direction of the building directory.

Nate moved onto the next car in his path. He brought his arm back, slamming the baton into the car window, the glass shattering with a satisfying clamor. He sprinted to the minivan parked in front of him. With a new proficiency, he wrenched the baton down onto the glass. Nate looked at the chaos he wrought with a mild satisfaction before disappearing into the crowd.

By this time, all of the lobby-let alone Dubenich- had gathered near the windows to see what had caused the commotion. Security guards rushed past him, running outside the building to investigate. The incident retained Dubenich's attention for a few seconds. He turned his head. Seeing the electronic directory, he crossed the remaining distance.

-O-

Parker shoved the next door open. Parker attached Sophie's harness to her grappling apparatus while Sophie felt faint when she looked over the railing to the many floors below. Her dark eyes widened, her stomach tying itself in knots. She looked at Parker in shock, silently thinking: _'Oh, no man is bloody worth this.'_ Parker attached her own harness, and Sophie took a step back.

In the hall, Eliot and Liza silently worked. She retrieved the extra drill from the bag, screwing the sides to the wall while Eliot worked on the opposite edges. They heard Sophie scream. Liza assumed Parker had insisted on jumping over the railing. Liza dusted off sheetrock dust from the sign's top.

-O-

Sophie stumbled out into the lobby on unsteady legs, looking thoroughly ruffled. She hurried to where Dubenich stood. She leaned in front of him. He stopped typing, his finger stilling overtop the 'enter' button. She smiled, attempting to control her labored breathing. "Oh, ah, our offices are on the tenth floor," she said, moving away from the machine, causing Dubenich to turn away from it.

Dubenich's chuckle was bashful. "You're, uh," he made a motion with his hand. "you have a glow,"

"Just...excited," she said, leading him to the elevator. She fell into her South African facade seamlessly. She was somewhat perturbed when the elevator's doors immediately opened when she prompted. They stepped into the cart. When the doors closed, Sophie said: "One thing. The gentleman bringing you this opportunity to work with their government, they'll, um-" she looked at him for a moment. "compensation. Not a bribe, of course,"

Dubenich's brow rose as he realized what she meant. "A finder's fee, you mean,"

Sophie feigned a mild delight. "Exactly,"

"I thought your job was to eliminate graft and stealing," he said.

Sophie shook her head. "No. My job is to keep it manageable,"

-O-

Eliot checked to ensure the sign's security while Liza shoved the tools back into the duffel. With both hands, she lifted the bag. "Looks good to me," she commented. "Ok, time to go,"

Eliot pointed to the side of her head. "You got some-"

She handed the bag to him before reaching to her hair. Her fingers brought back a dusty white residue. "Are you freakin'-" she bit out while brushing the sheetrock from her hair. Much to Liza's relief, Eliot disappeared down the hall just as the elevator containing Sophie and Dubenich opened. Liza put on her best smile, holding her clipboard closely to her side. Sophie exited the elevator first. She motioned to Liza.

"Mr. Dubenich, this is Amy Porter. She works as my secretary while I'm in the US,"

Liza shook his hand. "Very nice to meet you, Mr. Dubenich,"

Dubenich offered a tight smile. "Mutual,"

The three approached the conference room. Liza opened the door, and Dubenich along with Sophie filed through the entrance. The Nigerian officials seated around the table stood when the newcomers entered. The man, who had sat at the head of the table, approached Dubenich. Babatunde Ogunjimi- as he had introduced himself to Liza- shook hands with Bering Aerospace VP.

"Good afternoon. Mr. Dubenich, we are honored by your presence," Mr. Ogunjimi told him.

Dubenich shook his head. "No, no, the honor is entirely all mine." Dubenich looked to the other men around the table. "Getting in on the ground floor of something like this is a wonderful opportunity,"

-O-

Nate's foot pushed against the table leg, listening as Sophie finished reining in Dubenich. Parker sat down on the chair opposite Hardison, immediately propping her feet atop the table, disregarding the disapproving stare from the older woman at the next table. Glancing to Parker, Nate commented: "Nice job on the zip line,"

Parker grinned widely, giving a laugh. "Totally thought she was going to break a leg." she thought back to the memorable event gleefully. "Not bad for a first time,"

Through the comms, they heard Dubenich say: "So what do you think?"

Nate folded his hands in his lap. "They're closing it up,"

-O-

Dubenich and Sophie sat at one end of the table while Liza stood behind Sophie. Mr. Ogunjimi spoke from his place at the opposite end of the room. "Yes, absolutely. We can definitely repurpose those factories,"

"Great," Dubenich said.

Mr. Ogunjimi smiled. "I believe we will be able to do a lot of business together, sir,"

Sophie ran her fingers across the tabletop. "About the...other matter," she reminded, meeting Mr. Ogunjimi's gaze.

Mr. Ogunjimi's smile dropped as he leaned back, nodding as he did. "Of course,"

Sophie looked back to Liza. "Amy, if you wouldn't mind," she prompted while Mr. Dubenich propped his head on his hand.

Liza dipped her head once. She walked across the room and waited patiently while the man withdrew an envelope from his pocket. Mr. Ogunjimi slid the item across the table. Liza picked it up, holding it by her side as she returned to her place. Her heel caught against the carpet, and she toppled sideways. Her hand flashed out, catching the top of Sophie's chair. Her cheeks turned red as some of the Nigerian businessmen and Mr. Dubenich asked if she was alright.

"Yes, I'm so sorry," Liza said. "I'm horribly embarrassed." She handed the envelope to Mr. Dubenich, who smiled at her sympathetically. He took what she offered, holding it in his lap as he opened it. The 1,000,000 dollar sum written across the paper inside caught his eye.

As Liza returned to her position near the corner of the room, Sophie asked Dubenich: "Is it agreeable?"

Pleased, he replied with guile, sliding the envelope into his coat pocket: "Oh, I think we can work something out,"

Liza hid a smile while Sophie lightly clapped her hands together. "Excellent,"

-O-

Nate hid behind one of the office building pillars while Sophie and Liza bid Dubenich goodbye. Dubenich slid into the backseat, ordering the driver back to his own office. Sophie slid her hands into her pants' pockets while Liza placed her hands on her hips. Liza let a sigh, laughing lightly.

"Well, that was something new," she said to Sophie, scuffing her shoes against the ground.

Nate emerged from behind the pillar. Eliot followed while Hardison and Parker joined the rest of the team from opposite directions. "You got him?" Nate asked. Sophie smirked.

"We own him," she replied.

Nate took a quick stride. The remaining five began after him, following him down the sidewalk. "Okay gang, let's go," Nate prompted. "We got a busy day tomorrow,"

Sophie increased her speed, coming to walk next to Nate. "This is going to work, right?"

His reply was instantaneous. "I guarantee it,"

-O-

 **Bering Aerospace**

 **One hour later...**

Dubenich's head engineer followed his boss into his inner office. The young man spoke in hushed tones as Dubenich determinedly led him to his desk. "This is insane. We are risking everything!"

Dubenich nodded before putting his finger to his lips, motioning for the young man to be quiet. Dubenich yanked on the engineer's arm, pulling the man to join him on his hands and knees.

While Dubenich fished a small flashlight from his pants' pocket, the engineer continued his proverbial freak out: "We already took a chance by—" the young man stopped mid-ramble when he finally took note of the red-flashing transmitter underneath Dubenich's desk. Dubenich crooked his index finger, motioning for the engineer to follow him. The two men stood, exiting the inner office. Dubenich closed the door.

"What is that?" the young man asked.

"It's a transmitter, and they've been listening to everything I've been saying," Dubenich explained.

He crossed his arms, his brow cinching together. "Who are 'they'?"

"Who do you think?" Dubenich retrieved a folded surveillance photo from his jacket pocket. He pulled it open, revealing a photograph of Nate and Sophie talking with Liza listening in the background. "Also," he re-folded the picture, shoving it back into his pocket. "Also, I've checked. There's no office for the African Commercial Trade Initiative anywhere in the city. They've been hustling me and I know exactly what they're doing," he said irritably. "Tomorrow, it stops. Get the FBI on the phone,"

He nodded. "Yes, sir,"

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 ** _Author's Note: Hey, guys! So Dubenich thinks he's onto the team. As far as bad guys go, Dubenich is pretty smart. Do any of you have a favorite bad guy from Leverage? Thanks for reading, and as always, I'm definitely up for comments and messages! _**

**_-Oracle_**


	6. The Nigerian Job:Black King White Knight

The area outside of Bering Aerospace bustled in great activity. Wait staff rushed, weaving between tables, dodging other employees. Florists created various flower arrangements near the balcony and the tables. The event planner- a petite blonde- stood at the helm of her ship, barking orders.

Dubenich kept a fast pace, even as the engineer- Ray Bryant- struggled to keep up. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Ray asked, dodging the event planner's underlings as they prepared for the party to take place after the shareholder's meeting.

Dubenich cast a wayward glance at his employee. "Yeah, they're pissed, I get that. They want to make me pay. I mean, an opportunity like this, the same week as the Shareholder's Meeting. The bug, the fake offices, cash bribes, Nigerians for god's sake! Nigerians" Dubenich exclaimed. "I mean, it's like those email scams with Nigerian bank fraud letters. Who the hell do they think I am?" he turned to face Ray as he walked. "Some dog they can just lead around? They're going to find out exactly how wrong they are!" he yelled.

-O-

 _ **Hardison's Loft…**_

Eliot, Parker, and Hardison stuffed six packages into two separate duffel bags. Eliot and Hardison slung the bags over their shoulders. The six exited the penthouse. In the hall, Nate asked Liza: "You got the thing?"

Liza nodded, pulling a portfolio stuffed to full capacity with papers and photos from her bag. "Finished it this morning," she said after catching his gaze. "And don't forget. You're the one who said to go crazy,"

Nate looked at his watch as they descended in the elevator. If Dubenich stayed true to his schedule, he would be presenting the stolen designs right about now. When they reached the ground floor, he checked his watch again. And the Nigerians would be leaving just about now. Dressed in a grey suit, Hardison reached the front door first, quickly exiting, with Parker following closely. Eliot pushed the door open next, revealing his brown leather jacket and tie. Donning her business attire once again, Liza stepped outside immediately after the hitter. Nate caught the door before it closed on Sophie. She smiled at him before exiting as well.

-O-

 _ **Bering Aerospace…**_

Sophie and Liza met the Nigerians as they exited their cars. Mr. Ogunjimi approached first. Sophie shook his hand before inviting the rest of the men to follow her.

-O-

The board of directors and shareholders stood on the fully decorated patio, leaning against tables and sipping champagne. A few of them congratulated Dubenich as he passed them. A soft, classical tune floated through the air; the noise covered Dubenich's soft conversation with one of his investors.

The investor replied: "All I know is, a good day for you,"

Dubenich lifted his glass to his mouth. "It's a good day for all of us. Stock's gone up 15 points since the announcement,"

The investor quirked an interested brow. "Really?"

Dubenich faked a modest surprise. "You didn't know?"

The investor shook his head. "No." he picked up his champagne from the table as he began to walk away to speak with other shareholders. "I'll pass it around," he told Dubenich.

Sophie and Liza approached as Dubenich watched the man go. Sophie spoke from behind him while Liza pulled out her cell phone, dialing a familiar phone number. "Well, aren't you the cat that ate the canary?"

Dubenich turned with a satisfied grin. "Does it show?"

"Horrible poker-face," Sophie said.

"Guilty," Dubenich replied. He looked past Liza, who spoke in hushed tones into her phone's receiver, to the Nigerians standing behind her. Dubenich tilted his head to the side. "Why don't we get this done?"

Sophie seemed startled at his request but quickly recovered. "Now?" Dubenich nodded in answer, taking a sip of wine. "You have the whole payment?"

"Absolutely, I think we should make the deal. I want to make the announcement, get even bigger headlines," Dubenich said. "I'll take them into a conference room away from all this. Go, go, go." he motioned for her to fetch the men. "Let's do it,"

"I'll be right back," Sophie said.

Liza remained at a safe distance from Dubenich as she disconnected her call. Sophie strode toward the men while Dubenich kept his eyes on her as she went. She glanced up the sky, muttering: "This better work, Nate,"

-O-

Dubenich swiftly led them to a conference room near his office. "Gentlemen," he began, stepping through the already open glass doorway. "now everybody come in, relax, make yourselves comfortable." He tapped the chairs as he walked past them, striding to the head of the table.

"Thank you," Mr. Ogunjimi said as he sat down. The rest of Mr. Ogunjimi's colleagues seated themselves around the table while Sophie and Liza remained near the doorway. Mr. Ogunjimi folded his hands on top of the table. "I assume we all understand the terms of this agreement,"

Dubenich leaned against the table. His tone when he spoke next became haughty. "Well, I'll tell you, the exact terms of the agreement, are these-" he pressed a button on the desk telephone. In seconds, several FBI agents flooded into the conference room.

"FBI! Don't move!" the youngest agent ordered.

An older, dark-skinned man-Higgins- then entered the room, asking Mr. Ogunjimi: "You all right, sir?"

Thinking the question to be directed at him, Dubenich answered: "Oh, I'm fine," crossing his arms. "Thanks for asking. Everything's perfectly-" Two agents came to stand at Dubenich's back. They each grabbed one of his arms. He looked down in confusion when the two agents yanked on his arms, dragging them away from his chest.

Mr. Ogunjimi stood to his feet, buttoning his suit jacket. He looked to Agent Higgins, replying, "Yes, of course,"

Dubenich looked to the agents, astonished. "What? What are you …? Wait a minute, wait a minute, let go of me, please." he wrenched his arms from the agents' grip. "What are you looking at me for, the criminals are sitting right over there, look at them." He pointed to the men sitting around the table. "Listen, I spoke to Special Agent Higgins if you call him on the phone-"

Agent Higgins lifted his badge into Dubenich's view. "I'm Special Agent Higgins," he said, and Dubenich's eyes widened. "Victor Dubenich, you are under arrest for soliciting a bribe from these Nigerian Government officials,"

Dubenich's complexion lost its lively color as he began stuttering. "I'm not-I'm not soliciting-these aren't even Nigerians,"

Mr. Ogunjimi stepped forward, retrieving his diplomatic passport from his jacket pocket. "Of course, we are,"

Dubenich held up his finger, shaking his head. "No, no. No,"

Mr. Ogunjimi slid his passport back into his pocket, vehemently replying, "Your women knew that when they contacted us last week,"

Dubenich pointed to himself. "My..women? Anna? Amy?" he questioned, looking for the Nigerians affirmation that that was indeed to whom he was referring. He craned his neck, looking to the doorway where Sophie and Liza had been standing. The doorway was empty, devoid of anyone, let alone the two con artists. "Anna?" he repeated before yelling, "Anna!" He swiped his hands across his forehead when he turned his head to face Higgins. "Um, Special Agent Higgins, Anna Gunschtot and her assistant works for them,"

"Ridiculous!" Ogunjimi spat. "She contacted us on your behalf!"

Another diplomat approached. "She told us she worked directly under you now,"

-O-

 ** _Fake Offices..._**

 _ **Three days previous…**_

 _The receptionist led Sophie and Liza into their conference room. The two women waited only a few minutes before they met Mr. Ogunjimi. He introduced himself and shook Sophie's hand. Sophie introduced Liza as her assistant before introducing herself and producing a business card: "Anna Gunschtot from Bering Aerospace, directly under Victor Dubenich,"_

-O-

 _ **Present…**_

Dubenich's mouth fell agape. With a small shake of his head, he attempted to explain more quietly: "But… b-but she took me. She took me to their office,"

Ogunjimi shook his head. "No! We do not have an office in this city,"

Dubenich snapped his fingers in realization. His frantic gaze darted to Agent Higgins. "Exactly!"

"We met her at your other office," Ogunjimi said, and Dubenich's face fell.

-O-

 _ **Fake Offices...**_

 _ **Two days previous…**_

 _Eliot screwed the last bolt into the sign just as he heard elevator ding. He gave a last glance to the sign, which read: 'Bering Consulting. Victor Dubenich'. He grabbed his tool bag, running to escape before the Nigerians noticed him. He turned the corner that led to the stairwell as Sophie introduced herself and Liza._

-O-

 _ **Present…**_

Dubenich visibly blanched. Panic took control as he said: "The shareholders...the shareholders!" he spun around, pushing past the two agents and dashing from the room.

-O-

As Dubenich ran to the party outside, he could only watch in horror as several police cars stopped in front of his building. A swarm of uniformed officers and jacketed FBI agents flooded the area. The agents sprinted toward the partygoers while yelling for no one to leave. The party erupted into concerned and outraged chatter. One of Dubenich's investors screamed, trying to get Dubenich's attention.

Dubenich forced himself through the crowd. "No, no, no. Uh, everybody, could I have your attention?" he waved his arms, and only a few of the shareholders listened. "It's just, it's just a permit problem,"

"Victor, what's going on?" the shareholder hissed.

"I can explain, Tom-" Dubenich claimed.

Staring down the crowd, Higgins interrupted before anyone else could speak. "Anybody else here involved in the bribe?"

The shareholder's eyes narrowed. "Bribe!?"

Dubenich shook his head. "There's no bribe," he defended.

Ogunjimi came to stand behind Dubenich. "I handed this man an envelope containing a cashier's check for $200,000," Ogunjimi insisted while Dubenich held up his hand, shaking his head.

Dubenich argued overtop Ogunjimi. "No. No, no. Nobody- I wasn't handed any…" Dubenich suddenly froze as he recalled being handed an envelope. His eyes closed as he passed a hand over his face. 'This is not happening,' he thought. 'Not happening,' "I didn't-" he denied feebly. "Nobody handed…"

-O-

 ** _Fake Offices…_**

 ** _Two days previous…_**

 _Liza crossed the room and retrieved the envelope Mr. Ogunjimi laid on the table. Right before Liza reached Sophie's chair, she forced her heel into the carpet, effectively tripping herself. As she stumbled, she reached for the back of Sophie's chair. While everyone else remained distracted, Sophie took the envelope from Liza's hand, replacing it with an identical match. When Liza righted herself, she apologized before handing Dubenich the replaced envelope._

-O-

 _ **Present…**_

Placing his hands on his hips, Higgins warned: "This will look a lot better for you if you did not deposit that check. Do you still have it?"

Dubenich had trouble getting his words out as he replied: "I didn't get a check." Ogunjimi looked fixed to blow a gasket when he looked down to the shorter man.

Another agent approached Higgins. "Sir, we got people searching the lab, seizing the files and computers." the younger man lifted the portfolio he had held by his side. The young agent glanced to Dubenich. "This profile came down the wire from the higher-ups. Said to bring it straight to you,"

Higgins took the folder. "Good job," he said as the younger agent exited. "Thanks." Higgins opened the file. He crooked an unhappy brow after skimming through just the first few pages.

Tom-the shareholder- forced his way to Dubenich, whispering, "Victor, news crews. If they find out-" Dubenich looked to the walkway which led to the road. He rubbed at his forehead when he saw that Tom was right. Dubenich jumped back to life when he realized what the younger agent had said. "Higgins! Higgins, you can't do that!" Dubenich disputed strongly. "You can't take my computer,"

Higgins whirled around, snapping the wrinkled profile folder marked classified shut. "This company has government defense contracts. And according to this profile, I have good reason to suspect that you sympathize with interests opposite of U.S. There are very serious rules regarding contact with foreign nationals." he stepped closer to Dubenich.

Dubenich motioned to the file folder. "You're not actually going to believe that crap, are you!"

-O-

 ** _Outside Starbucks near Los Angeles' FBI Building…_**

 ** _Four hours previous…_**

 _Nate waited for the FBI assistant director to exit his vehicle and enter the small coffee shop. When he disappeared through the door, he crossed the street. He pulled out a long, thin metal rod-given to him by Parker. He walked to the driver's seat door and jimmied the lock open, tossing the file near the edge of the door. He shut the door, swiveling his head, ensuring no one noticed him. He returned to his place across the street. Leaning against a bank's column, he waited for the assistant director to return._

 _The middle-aged man exited the shop a fifteen minutes later. Shoving his newspaper into his mouth as he fumbled for his keys in his pocket, the director set his coffee on top of the sedan. As he attempted to insert his keys into the lock and opened his door, Parker, disguised in a loose black hoodie, purposely bumped into him, jarring open his briefcase. The thief didn't slow her pace as the man screamed for to watch where she was going. The file Nate left for the man lay scattered against the pavement amongst the half-dozen others that had spilled from the man's briefcase. He reached Liza's profile last. From across the street, Nate saw the man's brow furrow as he picked it up, opening it._

 _Nate's eyes narrowed as the man jumped to his feet, alarm in his expression. The assistant direction tossed his briefcase into his car, hurriedly and clumsily sliding into the driver's seat. He again fumbled for his keys to start the car. Nate smiled faintly when the man's forgotten coffee fell off the car's roof as he sped away with the police lights flashing._

-O-

 ** _Present…_**

"The Patriot Act applies here, my friend." Higgins gave Dubenich a once-over. "Sir, I can take your underpants,"

Dubenich chuckled nervously. "Okay, it's getting a little aggressive." he swiped a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Bobatumbai," he said, fabricating a name for the Nigerian behind him. "this is Tom Bailey." he motioned to the shareholder on his other side. "These gentlemen are from Nigeria. Everybody, just take it easy, relax, I'll be back and explain everything." Dubenich ran off with several FBI agents following closely.

Tom turned around, yelling, "Where are you going? Victor! Victor!"

The shredded remains of confidential Bering Aerospace documents rained down from open windows. Several FBI agents looked, seeing remains of evidence floating down toward them. The agents moved in and out of the building swiftly, not paying attention to the people wearing FBI windbreakers. Disguised in their counterfeit FBI jackets, Nate led his team from the Bering offices. Their hands filled with boxes, an FBI agent opened the door as they escaped. All attempted to disguise their triumphant smiles.

-O-

 ** _Abandoned office…_**

 ** _Three hours later..._**

Nate stepped out of the elevator on the twelfth floor, walking into an empty office space. Mr. Pearson waited by the windows. Pearson turned as Nate approached. "I came alone," Pearson said.

"Yes, I know, thank you, Mr. Pierson." Nate stopped when he reached the window. "Now I understand your research was completely wiped out. I have complete copies right on these hard drives-" Nate lifted a small black bag into Pearson's view. "along with absolute proof that they were on Bering Aerospace computers, that should be good for a couple of lawsuits, right?"

"I drop the investigation of all parties involved with the original theft,"

Nate nodded. "That seems fair. You get your property back,"

"Agreed. No charges. Nothing on you, or your people," Pearson replied. Nate tossed him the bag before turning and walking away. "Don't you want money?" Pearson called after him.

Nate kept walking as he replied, smiling, "This particular project has a different revenue stream,"

-O-

 _ **Grand Park, Los Angeles…**_

 _ **One hour later...**_

Liza stood in the park walkway, watching Nate call Dubenich at his office. She smiled when she heard him start the conversation with the words: "Yeah, you shoulda just paid us," She listened as a few other keywords, such as: 'Bribe', 'fraud', 'crash' left Nate's mouth. It had been years since she had seen Nate enjoy himself so much. She didn't let it bother her that he was gloating over Dubenich's career's grave. She would accept what little progress she could get.

She smoothed out a wrinkle in the flower-patterned dress she wore before tightening the light jacket around her. Nate jogged down the steps, and she stepped forward, picking up a quick pace. She turned her head when she caught a glimpse of a figure in a red shirt and jeans. She offered a smile, greeting, "Eliot,"

"Liza,"

While they try to catch up with Sophie, Hardison, and Parker, they didn't say anything for a few long seconds. Liza pushed her glasses further up her nose before asking, "You still suspicious?"

His expression turned to one of offense. "I'm suspicious of everybody,"

"Big surprise there,"

"I think I've figured it out," Eliot said. She lifted a brow but didn't say anything. He looked to Nate, who walked above them on the upper walkway. "He manages us, but you...you manage him,"

She considered denying it. Eliot proved to be smarter than she gave him credit for. In the end with good humor, she simply said, "Just don't tell him. He hasn't figured it out. He has a control problem if you hadn't noticed,"

They caught up with Hardison and the two other women. Hardison glanced at Liza. "You put that man on the terrorist watch list. What the hell you put in that profile?"

Liza looked up, asking impishly. "You really wanna know?" Hardison shook his head once, deciding against it.

Above them, Nate said to Dubenich: "No, it doesn't account for all of it. Sophie kept a little to buy a truly impressive number of shoes,"

Parker's brow furrowed as she questioned, "What is it with women and shoes?"

After looking at the blonde in disbelief, Sophie sighed. "There's something wrong with you,"

Finally finding someone who made sense, Eliot quicked his stride to walk directly behind Sophie. "That's what I said,"

Liza stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets. "Y'know, Parker, I would've loved to have had you when I was working on my thesis," Liza said thoughtfully. Parker gave her a wayward glance, not saying anything.

Nate neared the end of the ramp. "See if a company's stock price falls ten... fifteen percent in one day, and you see it coming, you sell short, you make a lot of money," he said before explaining happily. "If it's going to fall thirty percent, you can make shattering amounts of money." Nate noticed his five waiting for him at the end of the path. "We didn't need the FBI to show up and take you to jail. We just needed them to show up and take boxes out of your office, all day long in front of TV cameras, scaring your investors. You going to jail is just a bonus." He cut his gloating short. "I wouldn't say anything about us to the Feds. Next time we won't be so nice." he disconnected the call.

As Nate approached, Hardison handed out the envelopes containing the payout. Sophie and Parker tore into theirs first. Sophie gasped, her knees buckling. "Wha-" She ripped the check out of the envelope completely. Parker looked at Hardison, attempting to determine whether he was cruel enough to play such a heartless trick.

Eliot and Liza shared a brief glance before opening their own envelopes less dramatically than their predecessors. Eliot could only stare in disbelief. Liza's hand flew over her mouth as she took a step back. She muttered a few muffled words. Her hand fell away as she asked, "Hardison, how-" her eyes darted between the hacker and the very valuable piece of paper she held in her shaking hand. $32, 761,349.05, the amount read.

Nate took the envelope Hardison offered when he came to stand next to the hacker. "Job well-" Nate's voice trailed off when he pulled the check from the envelope. "..whoa!"

They all looked to Hardison for an explanation. The young man grinned proudly. "There was an overlap in the London stock market. Valuation carried over to NASDAQ and…" When he saw they didn't care about the technical details, he held up his hand, saying: "Look, I'm just very good at what I do,"

Parker looked at the other five, saying excitedly. "This is the score. THE score," she shook the envelope for emphasis.

Hardison laughed. "Age of the geek, baby,"

Eliot cracked a broad grin, still staring at the long number written across the check. Liza threw her head back, laughing. "This can't be real." She turned her gaze to Nate. "It-it's impossible,"

Hardison crossed to stand between Liza and Eliot. Eliot smacked Hardison's shoulder. "Somebody kiss this man so I don't have to,"

Hardison looked at Nate. "So, we're out, huh? I mean we're out, this is retirement money," he said. "This is go-legit-and-buy-an-island-money,"

Sophie, Parker, Liza, Hardison, and Eliot stared at Nate, waiting for him to say something. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, shifting on his feet awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. Pleasure working with you,"

Liza recognized Nate's form of ' _goodbye/ get lost_ ' by then. She glanced at everyone, an unknown disappointment spreading through her chest. Her job was finished. She looked at the check in her hands, knowing she would never have to work again if she didn't want to do so. She knew she should feel excited. Elated, even. She looked to her feet. So why didn't she?

Eliot's smile vanished as if suddenly realizing something. "Yeah. One show only. No encores,"

"I've already forgotten all of your names," Parker said flippantly.

Liza felt like they all stood on the precipice of something wonderful. If someone didn't convince Nate of the same, the ex-insurance investigator would ruin it for all of them!

They stood in tense silence, all hesitating to move away for a long moment. Nate broke the hesitancy for them by leaving. The remaining quickly followed suit, splitting in all directions.

-O-

In her own defense, Liza made it approximately two hundred feet away before she turned around running in the direction Nate had left. She caught up with him, out of breath. He didn't turn to look at her when she said: "You know, it wasn't as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Working with a team wasn't-"

"Liza-" He warned.

"You can fake it all you want, Nathan," She huffed. "but-"

Nate moved his hands as he talked. "Nathan? Really? You're gonna bring that one out?" he said, exasperated.

From the path across from them, Hardison appeared to Nate next. "You know I never had that cool a time on a job," the young man said.

Nate cast him a glance. "It's a walk away,"

Hardison wasn't deterred, and Liza smiled. "And I got focus issues, brother. You kept me right on,"

Liza jumped when Parker came out of nowhere to stand next to her. "I'm really good at one thing—" she said.

Nate shook his head. "Parker…"

She bounded as she walked. "…only one thing that's it, but you! You know other things and-and I can't stop doing my one thing. I can't retire! …" she said animatedly.

Eliot revealed himself next, falling into stride with Nate. "You want to know what I think?"

Nate apathetically replied. "Not really,"

"How long until you fall apart again?" Eliot asked. Liza bobbed her head in agreement.

"Oh, I'm touched," Nate replied.

"Well, a guy like you can't be out of the game; that's why you were a wreck," Eliot argued strongly.

"He's got a point," Liza said.

"Not you too," Nate mumbled.

"You need the chase, Nate," she insisted.

"Yeah, I think I'll manage." Nate stopped walking when his cell phone rang. "Yeah?" Nate looked at the bench in front of him. He lowered his cell phone when he saw Sophie Devereaux. Sophie closed her own cell phone. While Sophie stood to her feet, Parker and Liza wore hopeful smiles.

"You pick the jobs," She conditioned, coming to stand in front of Nate. Nate tried to avoid meeting her gaze.

Nate shook his head in disbelief. "My job is helping people. I help find bad guys,"

Sophie smiled, captivating him. "Then go find some bad guys. Bad guys have money," she said casually. "Black King, White Knight,"

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 ** _Author's Note: Hi, guys! I hope I've written this chapter in a way that's easily understood. This was definitely the most difficult chapter to write because of all the flashbacks. If this works, this will probably be the way that I write the rest of the flashbacks in the future of the story. So do you guys think Nate will give into Sophie? I mean, it's pretty hard for anyone to be able to say 'no' to her, let alone Nate Ford. Do any of you have a favorite persona that Sophie has undertaken? Thank you so much for reading this chapter of The Third Man. :-)_**

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 ** _guest:_** ** _Hey! Thanks for checking out my story! I'm glad you're enjoying it!_**

 ** _Hannahgrace4545: I know right! Eliot is vastly underappreciated, in my opinion, lol! He's a great character and also pretty easy on the eyes :-) Thanks so much for checking out my story. I really, really appreciate it!_**


	7. The Nigerian Job: We Provide Leverage

_**Three weeks later...**_

 _ **Barrows' Household**_

 _ **Portland, OR**_

Elaine Barrows buried her face in her hands as she cried. She lost her breath, her face growing red. Her husband- Bill- wrapped his arm around her. Photographs of their daughter-Valerie- set on the table behind the couch. "I'm sorry," Elaine wept. She took several deep breaths, attempting to center herself.

From her seat adjacent to Elaine, Sophie grabbed Elaine's hand, giving her another tissue. "No, no," Sophie said gently. "Please, take your time,"

"She-she was seventeen," Elaine began.

Sophie leaned forward, her expression genuinely sympathetic. "I know,"

"They killed her!" Elaine tightly squeezed Sophie's hand. "They said it was an accident, but that company killed her." Elaine's temper flared dangerously as she ground out. "I want them hurt,"

Bill's eyes went to the man in the nice suit, who sat in the armchair across from him and his wife. "Uh… now, we can't pay you,"

Sophie answered: "We work on an…" she paused smiling slightly before continuing, "alternative revenue stream,"

Bill's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. The judge said that we couldn't appeal." His eyes roved over the people dressed in professional garb in his living room. He glanced to Liza, who stood beside Nate, before looking to Eliot, Hardison, and Parker. "What are you gonna do?"

"People like that, corporations like that." the two parents turned to stare at Nate when he began to speak. "They have all the money they have all the power and they use it to make people like you go away. Right now you're suffering under an enormous weight." Nate's voice remained calm, unchanging in tone or volume. "We provide... Leverage,"

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 _ **Author's Note:**_ _ **The Nigerian Job is complete! I can't believe it! I know this chapter is a little shorter than my others, but I felt like this seriously epic moment needed a chapter all of its own. I'm working episode two: The Homecoming Job as we speak (Well, as I type and as you read, I guess :-) I'm funnier in person, I swear!) Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who read this, who reviewed this, and who is supporting it in whatever way you can! I really, really appreciate it! You guys are the best!**_

 _ **-Oracle**_

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wildcat717: Thank you so much! I'm so glad that you're liking this story! I really, really appreciate your review. You totally made my day!


	8. Hardison, Call Them

**_Iraq_**

 ** _Outside Najaf_**

 ** _Six months previous..._**

 _Corporal Robert Perry squinted as he looked up to the hot desert sun. Dust stirred as a Humvee passed down the street. Several soldiers in full tactical gear walked past him._ He _retrieved his camcorder from the pocket on the side of his leg. He pressed the 'on' button before turning the lens toward himself. "All right, sweetheart, we are near Najaf, I'm not allowed to say exactly where." When he saw one of his friends attempting to sneak past the camera's view, he turned the camcorder. "Hey, Dwight, say hello to Jenny."_

 _Losing his shyness, Dwight lunged forward, wearing a goofy grin. "He's cheating on ya!"_

 _Perry laughed. "Nice,"_

 _Dwight's smile grew as he leaned closer to the lens. "With a camel. A drunk, slutty camel,"_

 _Perry turned the lens back to himself. Grinning, he played along. "All right, it was one time, okay. And the camel's been texting me, but it's over. I promise."_

 _Dwight slapped Perry's shoulder before pointing to the loading dock across from them. "Hello." Perry looked in the direction Dwight pointed. "PSD," Dwight said._

 _Perry pointed the camera at the covered truck and the several men in black uniforms standing guard. The Castleman insignia was painted in stark black against the tan cloth covering the shipments. A tall man on top of the platform barked orders at his subordinates. Perry began giving his own commentary. "See those guys?" Perry asked. "Private contractors. They make seven hundred bucks a day." He repointed the camera at himself. "I make seven." he deadpanned._

 _"Yeah, but you know what they gotta do?" Dwight pointed at the men in question. "They gotta-"_

 _The roar of automatic gunfire sliced through the air. Dwight jerked back as several bullets riddled his upper torso and arms. "Shots fired!" Perry yelled. "Shots fired. Go, go! Go red!" Perry careened backward, a sharp pain darting through his gut. He collapsed to the ground, his camera falling from his hand._

-O-

 ** _Los Angeles_**

 ** _Rehab Center_**

 ** _Present…_**

Static filled the laptop screen as the video ended. Nate rewound the video to the moment the shooting started before clicking Pause. Nate stared at the screen before turning to the wheelchair-bound Perry. "Jenny your fiancée?" he asked quietly.

Perry looked to the side. "Well, she was but…"

Nate nodded, realizing. "Oh," he replied. "Oh, I'm sorry,"

Perry shook his head, giving a small smile. "I'm not mad, it happens." he tapped his fingers against his chair's armrest. "Look, I don't want charity,"

"We are not a charity," Nate replied.

"I just want my rehab. You know, if I'm gonna work-and I want to work-" Perry explained. "Dr. LeRoque says I need another year and a half of hardcore rehab, maybe two more surgeries." he glanced at his paralyzed legs. "Castleman shot me up. I just want them to pay my bills, no more, no less,"

Nate gave a considering hum. He surveyed the room. A physical therapist talked with a soldier with a leg amputated above the knee. Another veteran moved across the parallel bars on the other side of the room. Resolve began to build the longer Nate studied his surroundings. "The army investigation determined, what? That you were hit by insurgents?"

"Yeah, that's because Castleman refused to cooperate in that investigation," Perry replied heatedly.

"And they can do that?" Nate asked.

Perry leaned back in his chair. "Nobody's stopping them. They're cowboys, they go off all the time, boom, boom, boom." he reached for his laptop on the table, pulling out the flash drive. "I just want them to do right by me,"

A female doctor approached the two of them. "Pardon me, Mr. uh?"

Nate stood to his feet. "Oh, uh, Nathan Ford. You're Dr. LeRoque?" he offered his hand. She quirked a brow before pointing to the exit, leaving Nate to awkwardly retract his hand.

"Can I talk to you outside?" she said curtly.

Perry turned his head to look at her. "Doc, he's cool, I found him on the internet,"

LaRoque scoffed. "Yes, that never goes badly," she commented wryly. She turned her glare to Nate, saying, "With me." she turned on her heel, expecting Nate to follow her.

He watched her go before looking at Perry again. "I'll be in touch." Perry handed Nate the flash drive as he followed after the irate LaRoque. Perry closed his laptop

-O-

Nate remained mostly silent as LaRoque berated him, only speaking up when she got a fact wrong. When they reached the door and exited the hospital, she yelled: "You can't just come in here and get his hopes up!", changing any of his ideas of passivity.

"I'm just here to provide options," he defended, stopping a few meters outside the door.

Appearing as though she was ready to rip out her hair in frustration, she whirled around. "There are no options!"

"The Veterans' Hospital-"

Doctor LaRoque quickly interrupted. "is 400 miles away and has a five-month waiting list. Everybody in that rehab room is a reservist." she said, pointing to the hospital entrance. "When reservists get out, they get sent home. No matter where home is or how far it is from the treatment they need. Nobody thought this through." she explained. "We're not a rich hospital, I cashed in every favor I had to take care of these kids for as long as I could but-" she glanced to the ground for a moment, centering herself. "I have to go back in there and tell Perry we can't treat him anymore. I have to do that." she pointed to herself before stalking back to the hospital, throwing over her shoulder. "Run your scam on somebody with money,"

"It's not a scam. I'm here to help," he said.

LaRoque barely prevented herself from rolling her eyes. "People don't just show up to help. That's not the way the world works," she insisted before pivoting on her heel and returning through the hospital doors.

Nate shook his head, not watching her leave. He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket, dialing a newly familiar number. The dial tone had barely rung once before the young man picked up, "Hardison," he said. "Call them,"

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 _ **Author's note:**_ _ **I'm bbbaaaccckkkkkk! So we're on the second episode, The Homecoming Job. I thought I should mention that I'm doing these episodes in the order that they appeared on air on television. Anyways, thanks for reading! You guys are the best! : -)**_

 _ **Hannahgrace4545: Hey! Thank you so much for reading! Aaahhhhh! I can't believe you like this! Anyways, I'll just be dancing after reading your review!**_


	9. Homecoming Job: Busy?

_**Hollywood, LA, California**_

 _ **Audition Room**_

Sophie grasped her head between her palms, violently shaking her head. "Why? Why?!" she demanded while casting directors looked on in abject horror. "I can't live like this anymore," she cried. "With the lies and the filth. No!" she raked her hands down her arms, scrubbing away imaginary dirt. "Help me. I want to be clean! I want to be clean!" she dropped to her knees.

The camera woman's eyes widened as she tilted her head. She was surprised her camera lens hadn't cracked yet. Looking at Sophie overtop his glasses, the casting director-John Rogers- questioned: "Yeah, you understand this is a soap commercial, right?"

Sophie nodded, smiling. "Uh huh." She returned to her feet. "When I thought about Peggy, I came up with this idea that the dirt was really this giant, like, metaphor, for sin," she explained before she glanced to her purse when her cell phone rang.

Rogers jumped at the opportunity. "You should take that." When Sophie hesitated, he continued. "No, no. You should take that,"

Sophie reluctantly bent, grabbing her phone from her purse. She cast a disdainful glare toward the casting directors. "Oh." she murmured before answering her phone. "Hello?" her tone became more serious when she asked, "When?" she nodded before disconnecting the call. She turned to the casting directors contemptuously. "Peggy killed her first husband,"

Rogers waved as she left. "Tha-thank you." After Sophie left the room, he let his head fall into his hand, murmuring to his assistant. "I need an aspirin,"

-O-

 _ **Berlin, Germany**_

Eliot tossed the last unconscious man onto the hood of his former employer's car. The man landed on the hard surface with a resounding thud. Eliot turned just as the last of the retrieval team pointed his gun at the hitter. The pistol's hammer clicked, and Eliot stopped his advancement. They stared at each other for a long moment before a cell phone ringing broke their silence. The cold wind brushed Eliot's hoodie and leather jacket while causing him to be glad he wore the black beanie.

"That you or me?" Eliot asked. The man seemed unsure as his eyes darted to his pocket where his own cell phone rested. "Could be important," Eliot prodded. The phone trilled again. Eliot lifted a brow. "Does your mama have your number?"

At last, the man glanced down, his free hand reaching for his pocket. Eliot's hand surged forward, punching the man in the neck and wrenching the gun away. The last man fell, grabbing at his neck, choking. Eliot unloaded the magazine and the one bullet in the chamber, tossing it away. His hand slipped into his hoodie pocket, grabbing his cell phone.

He flipped it open, answering, "Yeah?" he glanced at the bodies behind him and the one at his feet. "Nothin'. Why?"

-O-

 _ **Monaco**_

Joseph, the security guard of the National Art Gallery, made his last round of the evening in the Post-Impressionist area of the museum. The older man took slow steps as he shone his flashlight on various paintings. Van Gogh, Cezanne, Matisse, and van Gogh again...

Joseph turned on his heel, checking the line of vases and small sculptures on the opposite wall. He returned his focus to the original arrangement of paintings on the wall. He aimed his flashlight, illuminating the assortment. Van Gogh, Cezanne, Matisse, and van G-….

It had disappeared!

A piece of rope hung down from the skylight while a thin woman easily scurried up the length of it. She toted the stolen painting with her. A cell phone's ring echoed in the cavernous space while Joseph was certain he must be hallucinating. The woman flipped open the cell phone, answering: "Parker." The woman shushed the guard when he began to call for his colleagues to sound the alarm. She loudly whispered in the receiver. "No, I wasn't shushing you,"

-O-

 _ **San Francisco, CA**_

FBI vans and the National Guard's humvees swarmed around the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco. Blue lights of the local cop cars flashed against the dull brown of the building. FBI negotiator Bill Johnstone hopped out of his car after slamming to a stop right outside the mobile command center. His newbie partner, Leon Redding, was fresh out of Quantico, and as the young man stumbled out of the vehicle, the distinction between the two agents couldn't have been more clear.

Agent Johnstone approached the acting detective underneath the canopy, ignoring the multiple news crews capturing his every move. The detective stomped out his cigarette as they approached. "FBI, right?" Detective Valastro asked while a SWAT team changed into their tactical gear behind them.

Johnstone retrieved his badge from his pocket, quickly showing it to Valastro. He gestured to himself. "I'm Agent Johnstone." he pointed to the young man beside him. "This is Agent Redding." he shoved the leather case back into his breast pocket. "Wha' do ya got, detective?"

"Hostage situation. The suspect has been in there since ten this morning. We're lucky that the bank manager was able to get to the silent alarm,"

"What do we know about the suspect?" Johnstone asked.

"Name's Eduardo Salazar,"

Redding's eyes widened. "Jorge Salazar's kid? The drug guy?"

The detective appraised the kid. "Yeah. You know him?"

"Just from what my dad told me while he worked with the DEA." Redding pulled a small notebook from his windbreaker. "How many hostages?"

"Just two now. The bank manager and that negotiator you sent in there," the detective answered.

Johnstone's brow furrowed as his whole body stilled. His steely composure slipped for a split second. "I didn't request for a negotiator until ten minutes ago,"

Valastro shook his head. "No. She's been in there for hours. And she's been doin' fricking good job of it too," he said sourly, noting Agent Johnstone's irritation. "Look, we had a direct line. They're all-"

"Show me!" Johnstone interrupted.

"Hey! This is my crime scene, bub! I called the FBI in as a favor. So don't you be telling me what-"

The detective's already rotten mood dropped into dire straits when Johnstone again interjected, "Show me. Now!" The detective grabbed another cigarette and lit it before Johnstone simply brushed past him.

The detective huffed, smoke from the cigarette choking Agent Redding. "What do you think you're doing!" Valastro demanded.

Agent Johnstone marched to the laptop sitting on one of the tables; live security footage was being fed onto the screen. He easily spotted the suspect in the center camera screen. The gun in Salazar's hand shook and trembled, causing the agent to conclude that the kid was coming off a wild high. Salazar was a thin, lanky kid, barely out of his twenties. Johnstone's attention didn't linger on Salazar for long. His eyes roved the screens, only stopping when he glimpsed a woman in a long, flowery patterned dress sitting on the bank floor with her back against the teller's counter.

Johnstone snarled when the woman waved at the camera. He banged a closed fist against the table. "Redding!" he yelled. "Get me Assistant Director Lowe on the phone! Now!"

-O-

Liza leaned against the teller's counter, fanning herself with her hand. _Judicial action for a hostage situation_ , she thought irritably. _Sweat them to death. Yes, let's take an unstable individual and push them even more completely over the edge. Brilliant!_

"Eddie," Liza said. The thin, scraggly man paced back and forth, the shotgun in his hand weighing heavily. He muttered incoherently to himself. She sighed before snapped her fingers. "Hey, Eddie!" The man turned his head. "Don't look at the cops. Look at me." In the corner of her eye, Liza saw the gagged and tied-up bank manager tense when Eddie moved. Liza patted the spot next to her. "C'mon. Let's talk, honey," she drawled, offering a smile.

"But-" he pointed at the window where a sea of blue and red lights flashed in a rhythm.

She waved a hand in dismissal. "Eh. They can wait. The government's pretty good at that these days. C'mon, and sit a spell,"

He swiped a hand across his sweaty forehead, taking a shaky breath. He crossed the room, and Liza beamed. She scooted over as he sat. "Now," she began, propping her chin on her palms. "How have you been feeling these past few weeks?"

The bank manager's eyes widened while she looked as though she were about to faint.

-O-

Liza, Eddie, and Mrs. Lyons- the bank manager, who had long been untied- sat together in a circle. Mrs. Lyons sipped her Diet Coke. Liza leaned back as she said, "Now, Eddie," her voice was gentle as she continued. "You can't just let your daddy's expectations control you like this,"

Eddie's head dropped, his eyes downcast. "I know, Doctor Liza. It's just so hard to face him like this,"

Mrs. Lyons pursed her lips in sympathy. The older woman patted Eddie on the knee. "I know, dear," Mrs. Lyons said. "I had the same problems with my mother." She raised her hands, looking around the bank. "Why do you think I'm stuck here and not teaching a pottery class?" she laughed.

"See, it's not so uncommon to have overbearing parents." Liza adjusted her glasses. "Sometimes, we just need to confront the issue instead of…" An amused smile quirked at the edges of her mouth while she couldn't help thinking, Instead of robbing a bank. "Doing something we don't mean." She said instead of voicing her other thought.

Eddie tapped his fingers against the metal of the gun. He took another deep breath. "You…" he began, causing Liza to hold her breath. "You're right." he pushed the gun off his lap. Liza's hand shot out, wrapping around the shotgun and quickly unloading it. "I think I'm ready to go out now,"

Liza grinned, slumping forward. "Wonderful," she said as Eddie stood to his feet and took small steps to the door. She gave a thumbs up when he hesitated."Mrs. Lyons and I are right behind you." When he exited the front entrance, Liza let out a laughed a bit hysterically. "Huh, I can't believe that worked,"

Eddie had barely made it out the door when an adventurous, young FBI agent tackled Eddie to the ground. The fight only lasted a few moments. The agents yanked him to his feet, and Eddie threw a smile and a thumbs up to the ladies still inside the bank. Much to Liza's surprise, Mrs. Lyons smiled fondly.

"Such a nice boy," Mrs. Lyons said good-naturedly.

Liza hurried to the back stairwell that led to the basement when FBI and San Francisco staff rushed the building. She glanced down when her cell phone trilled, echoing in the cavernous stairwell. She hiked up her long dress and raced down the stairs, shoving open the emergency exit door. Flipping open her cell phone, she answered, "Hello? ...oh, hey, Hardison! What's up? No, I'm not doing anything." She reached her motorcycle parked in the back alleyway. Swinging a leg over, she paused before pulling on her helmet. "...why?"

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 _ **Author's Note:**_ _ **Hey, guys! I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to update this story. School and life, in general, has been super crazy! But I shall do my very best to do better about updating. Now in the story, I realize that this is probably not how an actual bank robbery/ hostage situation would be handled. So please don't try to intervene with my tactics should you ever be taken hostage, lol! I guess this is just my version of a disclaimer. I just wanted to write a fun scene. It might not be believable but, hey, whatever. This is fiction, right? Let's just go crazy. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter of the Third Man. Thanks for reading!**_

 _ **scripturient3201: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you'll continue to enjoy it! Thanks for commenting :-)**_

 _ **guest: Thank you so much! I love these characters so much. I just hope I am doing them justice.**_


	10. Homecoming Job: Hannibal and the Alps

_**Los Angeles, CA**_

 _ **Gerry Building**_

The elevator dinged as the car reached the 11th floor of the building. Liza stepped off, chatting with Sophie and Parker. Eliot leaned against the wall, waiting for them. Liza pulled a piece of paper from her dress pocket. ' _Office 1107, two lefts, middle office_ '. Her cursive script read. Liza pointed to the hall to the left of the elevator. "It should be this way," Liza said. Beginning down the hall, Liza asked Parker, "So what'd you do with the payout, Parker?"

Parker's expression curled into one of cat-like satisfaction. "From the first job?" Parker asked, coming to stand in between Eliot and Liza.

As they turned the next corner, Eliot glanced at Parker. "Yeah,"

"I put all that money in a Swiss bank account," Parker replied, stopping in front of Office 1107.

"Millions of dollars and you didn't buy anything?" he asked disbelievingly.

Parker turned her head. "I don't like stuff, I like money."

Liza smiled, huffing a laugh. "Why doesn't that surprise me, Parker." Liza glanced at Sophie. "What about you? Buy anything special?"

"I bought a little retirement home in Ireland," she said.

Eliot crossed his arms. "Nice."

Liza stepped forward, seeing a small envelope taped to the door with her name written on it in Nate's distinctive scrawl. She pulled it off the door as Sophie continued to list the cities that she now owned homes. Liza ripped the envelope open, tipping the key inside into her palm.

"What about you?" Parker asked Eliot.

"Yeah," Eliot drawled. "I'm not about to tell three-" Liza cast a sharp glance over her shoulder, quirking her brow, causing Eliot to change his number. "Two known thieves what I did with a multi-million dollar payout,"

Sophie was the picture of perfect innocence when she asked. "Why? Don't you trust us?" Sophie shared a laugh with Parker while Liza hid a smirk while she opened the locked door.

Liza stepped through the door, halting suddenly when she saw the sign boldly emblazoned on the lobby wall. "Leverage Consulting & Associates?" she asked herself. The other three walked around her. Sophie looked down to the Persian rug underneath her feet and the other expensive furnishings.

Sophie's eyes widened, nodding her head skeptically as she observed her new surroundings. "Ok...ok,"

Liza squeezed her eyes shut as her fingers went to rub at her temples. She sighed. "I really, really hope that this is not what Nate meant by 'office work',"

Eliot's brow furrowed. "I don't get it,"

Parker looked away from one of the awful portraits on the wall. "What is this?"

Hardison appeared from the next room, carrying four sets of files. "I am glad you asked. This is our new cover story-"

"Have you been standing behind there this whole time?" Liza asked.

Hardison pointedly ignored her, continuing, "Welcome to Leverage Consulting and Associates, founded in 1913 by the great Harland Leverage the Third." Hardison pointed to another portrait behind them, which held a suspicious resemblance to one Nate Ford.

Liza threw a hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. "Oh, you did not!"

Hardison chuckled, "But I did." sharing a hive five with Liza.

Sophie stepped closer to it, laughing. "I'm sorry, but Nate is going to kill you,"

Against his better judgment, Eliot asked, "Did you paint that?"

Hardison shrugged, grinning. "I'm gifted,"

"That's weird," the other man replied.

Hardison placed the folders on the desk before giving them a new cell phone and ID. "Now Leverage Consulting Inc. is squeaky clean. All corporate taxes on record have been paid for the last ninety years." He then handed them each a folder. Liza opened hers, finding a set of new business cards, tax records, employment records, and insurance files. "All your identities as partners, your payroll taxes are paid," he said before starting down the hall, forcing the group of four to follow him. Liza flipped through the pages, glancing up when they passed multiple, modern, sleek offices.

"In 1998, I won the sack race at the 4th of July picnic." Parker laughed. "Cool,"

"Now these, these are your offices." he motioned to the open rooms on either side of them. "Now you can bring something like a photo, you know what," he glanced over his shoulder. "a plant! I'm a big supporter of dandelions,"

Liza passed an office on her left which caused more than a cursory glance on her part. She stopped in the door's threshold, poking in her head. A familiar bookcase stood on the opposite side of the room while trinkets from across the country were strewn across the desk and end tables. "...hey, wait a minute," she said to herself. "Is that my stuff?!" her head jerked to the side. "Hardison, wait! How did my stuff get here?"

"That would be Nate's prerogative, miss sassy pants," Hardison replied easily before Sophie interjected, surprised:

"Hardison, I can't believe you spent your share of the cash on all of this,"

Hardison's eyes bulged as he vehemently shook his head. "Me? No, hell no!" he gestured around him. "Nate paid for all of this, you know with what he had left. I mean, you know, after he gave the rest of it away." he turned back around, taking a few steps before Eliot stopped him.

"Whoa! What do you mean?" his eyes darted to Liza, who shrugged a shoulder, pushing her glasses up her nose. "He gave it away?"

"Yeah, all of it. Every last penny," he said incredulously, not understanding why Nate would do such a thing. "It was like to some children's hospital or something like that,"

Liza downcast her eyes while Sophie surreptitiously looked to the younger woman.

A proud smile split the hacker's features. "but this," he pulled the sliding doors apart, the light inside flashing to life. Six large flat screens arranged into one continuous monitor lay on the opposite wall in tandem. A large conference table set in the midst of the room with leather desk chairs around it. "this is my masterpiece,"

Liza and Sophie entered the room with Eliot and Parker following. Sophie bobbed her head, looking around her. "Nice," she said.

Eliot spotted the TVs on the wall, a small grin quirking his lips. "My man,"

Hardison crossed his arms, smiling. "You want the long version or the short version?"

Liza placed her set of files on the table as the others filed into the room. "Short," she said just as Eliot interjected:

"Short version,"

"Shortest," Parker continued. Liza backed up a few steps, choosing to lean against the wall while Sophie sat down, and Eliot and Parker stood behind a pair of desk chairs.

Hardison picked up a small black remote from the table, pushing a button, causing a stream of data to fill the screens. "Photo and video forensics programs, backdoors into _every,"_ he smiled smugly. "electronic banking system in the world, running heuristic data crawls all over the news sites to find our clients, oh also!"

Parker tilted her head, mischief dancing in her eyes. "This is the short version?"

Hardison ignored his colleague's snickers. "Facial recognition database tied into CIA, NSA, and the FBI. But, the real pièce de résistance-" Hardison tapped another button on the remote. Several different sports channels flashed onto to the many screens. "DirectTV HD Total Sports Package. NFL, NBA and I threw in a little bit of hockey," Hardison looked to Eliot as he said, " 'cause I know you people like that,"

Liza rolled her eyes while Sophie shook her head. Eliot looked as though his knees were about to buckle as he leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. _True love,_ at _last_ , Liza thought.

Eliot grinned wickedly. "Hockey,"

Liza jumped out of the way when another set of sliding doors opened, almost knocking her arm. Nate appeared in the doorway, mildly amused at Hardison's enthusiasm. Liza offered a small wave to Nate when he glanced at her. "All right, stop kicking the tires." Nate held up a small black flash drive before tossing it to Hardison. "Wanna take her for a spin?"

-O-

Five of them were seated around the table while Nate chose to pace behind them as Corporal Perry's video played. Liza opened her small notebook, scribbling down a few notes as she watched. The jocular young man laughed and joked with his friend. Liza turned her head, averting her eyes, when the gunfire started, instead choosing to focus on the notes she had taken. Hardison paused the clip when Nate began with:

"Our client is the cameraman. Corporal Robert Perry. He says that the Castleman contractors spooked and started firing," he said, coming to stand behind Sophie.

Eliot leaned back in his chair. "5.56 NATO rounds mixed in with some 9 mils from the sub-machine guns." he shook his head. "Insurgents would have used AK-47s with 7.62 ammo. It has more of a.." he hit the back of his hand with his palm. "crack. Contractors shot 'em up all right."

Parker turned her head, her delicate brow furrowing. "You ID'd the weapon from the gunshot sound?"

Eliot regarded her contentiously. "It has a very distinctive sound,"

Liza looked at Nate suddenly, dropping her pen. "Wait. Castleman? As in the Castleman security firm? Charles DuFort?" Her smile became disbelieving. "Nate, you gotta be kiddin' me,"

"You know him?" Nate asked.

Liza hesitated. "Uh… well, not personally. A friend of mine at MI-6 asked me to work up a threat analysis,"

Sophie tapped a well-manicured nail against the table, asking nonchalantly. "And how high did he rank?"

Her eyes widened, her mouth contorting into a grimace. "Ooh. Pretty high. I've never seen so many different narcissistic personality disorders and signs of severe paranoia in one man in all my born days, to be honest," she drawled.

Hardison grabbed the remote on the table. Pointing it at the monitors and tapping a button, a new set of photos appeared. A smiling Charles DuFort paired with the Castleman logo and a meeting with a local congressman stared back at them. "Castleman Security is hardcore, folks. Billion dollar company, they got fat government contracts everywhere we got troops." Hardison glanced away from the screens. "That's Charles DuFort, CEO. Like Liza said, very paranoid and very professional,"

"I want to get this clear right now," Eliot interrupted. "This is a private army you're talking about taking on. They got their own intel assets, they got a lot of trigger pullers,"

Liza wondered if Eliot meant to glare at Nate or if the habit had become second nature after working as a hitter for so long.

Nate took the passive-aggressive criticism in his stride, leaning against the table and answering, "Yes, and lobbyists in every office in Washington, DC."

Liza's mouth quirked into a faint smile. _Way to sell a job, Nate. You were always so good with words…_

"The problem with a cover-up is," Nate continued. "all the paperwork it takes to keep the lies straight,"

"Internal emails, memos," Hardison offered.

Nate hit the desk with his palm. "Exactly!"

Sophie turned her head to look at Nate. "So…"

"So let's go to work." Nate pivoted on his heel, exiting the room, leaving the rest of the team to scramble to their feet to follow him.

Sophie reached the entry room first. "So, we steal the evidence and threaten to expose them,"

"Blackmail," Parker said, standing next to Sophie.

"Ah, yes," Nate said. "But just enough blackmail to, uh, pay for Perry's rehab, maybe a couple of million more in damages." The practicality in his voice unnerved Sophie.

Ever the perpetual student, Liza raised her hand. "Excuse me?" Nate looked at her. "Yeah, hi. I can name about seven laws off the top of my head that that plan breaks." she shrugged.

Eliot crossed his arms. "It'll never hold up in court,"

With one hand in his pocket, Nate held up an objecting finger. "Ah, but that's why Corporal Perry is lucky, he doesn't have lawyers. He has thieves." Nate held out his arm, motioning for them to go out the open door back into the hall.

Parker began first, smiling at the flattery with a cat-like satisfaction while Sophie followed with little more than a mild eye roll. Hardison ambled past before the hitter. For the first time that day, Eliot offered genuine, half grin to the mastermind before walking out the door.

"That's exactly how Hannibal sounded before he crossed the Alps, just sayin'," Liza said with a good-natured as she brushed past. She tapped Nate on the shoulder, pointing Hardison's artwork behind his head. "The new kid's got skills, Nate," she said, slipping into the hall.

Nate's brow furrowed as he turned around to look. His mouth dropped into a scowl, the lines in his face conforming to the characteristic expression. He bit out a sharp "Hardison," before following his team into the hall.

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 ** _Author's note: Hi! Yes, I can imagine your surprise, but I still exist. Please, please, forgive me for the late update. I've been taking summer classes to finish my degree on time. But I have a few weeks break so I cranked out this next chapter. I really hope that you guys like it. I have enjoyed writing Liza. She is like so much fun._**

 ** _AND ALSO what the crap! I have over 2k views on this story! TBH I didn't think anyone would read this. I was just writing this because this was a story that I wanted to read. You guys are freaking awesome!_**

 ** _Xxx. Much love, dudes. I hope you'll keep reading :-)_**

 ** _scripturient3201: your review made my heart sOOO happy! Thank you so much! We are now best friends :-)_**

 ** _wildcat717: AAAHHHH thank you! I tried to make it funny...I hope i did anyway XD Thank you so much for commenting on this story! YOU MY FRIEND ARE AMAZING_**


	11. See Me Now?

Nate dropped Liza off at her downtown hotel with strict orders to change into something decently formal and meet them outside Castleman in four hours. She saluted him before hopping out of the car.

"Yes, boss," she said as he sped off. She turned on her heel, bounding up the stairs. She stopped when she reached the turnstile doors. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

The valet looked at her questioningly. "You alright, miss?"

She jolted. She turned her head, pasting on a patented, disarming smile. "Fine, honey," Liza replied. "I never get used t' the city," she laughed a bit. "Feels like everybody's watchin' me,"

The valet nodded, offering a slight curl of his lips instead of a smile. "Know the feeling, miss." he gestured to the door. "Sorry for holding you up. Have a nice stay,"

She nodded her thanks. Liza entered the lobby, not seeing the homeless man on the other side of the street tuck an expensive camera into his raggedy bag and get into a waiting Mercedes in the alley.

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 ** _Hey, guys! Please don't shoot for such a short chapter, but I've been dealing with some serious writer's block. But also DUN-DUN-DDUUNNNNN! LOOK, I INTRODUCED DRAMA! AREN'T YA PROUD, MA!?_**

 ** _Seriously tho, guys. You are the best, and I will do my absolute best to have another chapter up ASAP :-)_**

 ** _to scripturient3201: AAHHHH thank you so much! FOr reading my story and basically existing in general, thank YOOOOUUUUU!_**

 ** _to Hannahgrace4545: oh, my goodness, aahhh, my BFF you're spoiling me with your words :-) thank you thank you, honey_**


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